


Wandering Souls

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Motorcyles, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Traveling, Wanderlust, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-11-02 00:52:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17877953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: Noctis is a single dad and widower who found his family's business too stressful and demanding, and now he lives on the road with his son.Similarly, Ignis is a motorcyclist who became tired of the daily grind of life in Insomnia and quit his job to travel.Being on the road means seeing a lot of different faces, but when they catch eyes at a diner in Hammerhead, both Ignis and Noctis realize that sometimes it’s nice to wake up to the same face every day.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written for ignoct in a while, but I started this fic last year, and I suddenly had inspiration that ended with me adding 6k to the 3k I'd already written. I have a bad habit of starting things and then finishing them two years later, not finishing them at all, or getting near finishing them and not posting the chapters I have written... ^^
> 
> Note: I'm using Victor (he's an ignoct child, usually adopted, that has shown up in various fics of mine), and Victor's mother is an OC I made just to pull this off. I didn't want to use an existing character for her since she's dead, and I didn't want to do that even to the characters who die in the game. Plus I wanted the focus on ignoct.

The morning sun is warm on Noctis’ right shoulder as it magnifies through the diner glass, but the chill of the Leide night is still crisp in the air. In the booth across from him, Victor rubs sleep out of his eyes. Relatable—Noctis wouldn’t mind going back to bed, either. But now that they’re done with breakfast, their next duty of the day is to look over Victor’s homework. 

“Want more orange juice?” asks Noctis, noticing his son’s cup is empty. 

“Yeah.” 

“All right, stay put.” Noctis slides out of the booth and makes his way to the counter with their drinkware. Takka is busy with another customer’s order, which leads Noctis’ eyes to wander to the stranger sitting to his left. 

A blush creeps up his cheeks when the man lifts his gaze from his breakfast and makes eye contact. Noctis is used to seeing random passersby in Hammerhead in the few weeks he’s been staying there, but most of them are grizzled travelers or groups of families on their way to someplace fancier, like Galdin. This man is closer to Noctis’ age and good-looking as well. Who is allowed to be that naturally handsome? Noctis feels like a deadbeat standing beside him in the same tee he rolled out of bed in and his hair uncombed.

Their brief eye contact makes Noctis smile stupidly. 

“Mornin’,” he mutters, like an _idiot_. 

“Good morning,” says the stranger in a voice so melodic that it makes Noctis feel even more out of his league. 

Noctis’ lip twitches as he turns away and calls out to Takka.

“Um, need another hot chocolate and an orange juice.” He nods his head toward his son, who is busy scratching another answer into his workbook.

“Sure, coming right up,” says Takka. It only takes a short few seconds to refill them from the dispensers before he sets them back on the counter in front of Noctis.

“Thanks,” says Noctis, and he dares another glance at the stranger only to make eye contact once more. He grins and nods before rushing back to his seat.

The next few minutes are filled with distraction. His son slips into the booth beside him to ask the definition of a word. Noctis stumbles on his explanation as he peeks up at the stranger, who is _definitely_ eyeing him through the reflective surface of a silver napkin holder. Unfair. Absolutely unfair.

“Daddy!” Victor huffs in exasperation. “Are you listening to me?”

“Ah, sorry.” Noctis ruffles his son’s hair and forces himself to focus on who is most important: Victor. Since they’re often on the road, it is imperative that he keeps up with his child’s schooling. Even the most handsome man on Eos shouldn’t take away from that.

They spend the next half-hour going over the worksheet and finishing off their refilled drinks. The diner is gathering more patrons, however, and the noise makes it harder for either of them to concentrate. Noctis pays the bill and leads his son outside. They’ll return to their RV, where it’ll be quiet—at least until Victor gets restless and needs to run around for a bit.

As they step outside, Noctis notices a motorcycle parked in one of the spots next to the entrance of the diner. He pauses to admire it. There was a time when he used to ride with his late wife, but it was never on a bike as nice as this one.

“Do you like her?”

Noctis turns to see the man from the diner standing on the steps, his hands tucked into the pockets of his designer jacket.

“Ah, well—yeah.” Noctis stares down at the cement. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were interested in motorcycles or looking for an excuse to talk to me.”

Noctis’ eyes widen as he lifts his gaze. “What? No—no! I mean, yeah, I was checking you out, and my late wife knew more about bikes than I did, but I didn’t know it was yours.”

“It’s fine. I was checking you out, too.”

How can he come right out and say that, and with such a charming smile, too? Noctis can feel his cheeks itching with the blush that spreads across them. It has been almost nine years since he’s ever wanted to flirt to impress. His wife tolerated all his embarrassing moments and agreed to marry him even after seeing how bad he was at wooing her. 

There’s an urgent tug on his wrist, followed by a whine. “Daddy…”

“Ah, what is it, Vicky?”

“Can I go play?”

“Ah.” There is plenty of time to study later after Victor has let out some of his energy, and when else will Noctis get a chance to talk to this beautiful man? “Sure. Stay out of the way of cars and don’t wander into the desert. If you see a snake, tell Cid about it. Check in with me often, and make sure to come back to the diner if you’re thirsty.” He says the rest sternly, but he’s lucky that there are eyes everywhere in Hammerhead that don’t mind helping him look after his son. That usually helps keep Victor out of trouble. _Most_ of the time.

“I know!” Victor hands over all of his study materials before he dashes off in the direction behind the diner, where he often meets up with other kids—those who come in with their traveling families or whose parents work in Hammerhead. 

Noctis adjusts everything in his arms before turning back to the man with the motorcycle. “Uh, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to go back in and have another drink?”

“You mean more hot chocolate?” The teasing smile Noctis receives makes him want to melt into a puddle on the cement right there. “I’d love to.”

“I’m Noctis.” Noctis presses his son’s workbooks to his chest and offers a hand, and the man shakes it with firm confidence.

“Ignis.”

They drift back inside, where Takka raises an eyebrow at Noctis as he mops a countertop.

“Another hot chocolate,” says Noctis.

“And I’ll have another coffee, please,” says Ignis. 

“Coming right up,” promises Takka, who drops his cloth to take care of their orders.

They return to the same booth Noctis was sitting at earlier with Victor, although this time Noctis sits on the opposite side of the table. He sets the books down at the far end next to the ketchup and mustard dispensers and wrings his hands. Now that he has Ignis’ attention, what does he say?

“What brings you out to these parts?” Before he finishes the sentence, he bows his head slightly in embarrassment and sighs. Fortunately, this only seems to amuse Ignis. “I mean—a motorcycle. That’s pretty cool. Where are you headed?”

“I’m currently wandering without any ambitions. But I have considered taking a ferry to Altissia recently.”

“They have good seafood,” says Noctis quickly, whose mind often wanders to fish. But Altissia means Ignis will be leaving Hammerhead. Everyone inevitably does. “Galdin is almost as nice. I’m thinking of heading that way soon.”

“Ah, are you on vacation?”

“No, I live in an RV.” Noctis nods out the window. “Not that beaten up trailer. The one on the other side.” 

Ignis leans forward to get a better view, since the caravan Cid rents out to travelers blocks him from seeing Noctis’ humble abode. 

“I thought about getting one of those,” admits Ignis. “But I decided to stick with my motorcycle.” He pauses. “If it’s not too personal to mention, I’ve become something of a wandering soul recently. I recently left Insomnia, and I haven’t a clue where I’m going or what I’m doing.”

Noctis laughs in surprise at how close that sounds to his own modest way of life. 

“I still don’t know what I’m doing,” Noctis admits. “And it’s even worse with a kid.” The selfishness of the statement hits him after it has left his lips. “Shit, I don’t mean that competitively, I just—”

“I get it.” Ignis’ smile offers him the grace Noctis needs. “You’re saying he’s an extra responsibility for you to factor in.”

The hot chocolate is a warm and necessary comfort for Noctis while he thinks over his next words carefully. There is only so much he should share with a stranger before it gets to be weird between them, and Noctis doesn’t want it to be weird. Not with the finite time he has left before their departures force them to separate. With any luck, they might meet again on the road. If they do, Noctis would like this occasion to be memorable enough to convince Ignis to have another drink with him.

“You mentioned you left Insomnia…” says Noctis, cradling his drink between his hands and feeling the heat of the ceramic against his palms. “That’s where I’m from, but I haven’t been back in ages.”

There’s a story behind it, but not one Noctis is willing to tell. Maybe Ignis’ reasons for leaving won’t be as childish. 

“It’s much calmer in the countryside,” Ignis offers, and Noctis is grateful for the peaceful middle ground he has chosen. 

“Yeah, I like it here. I come back to Hammerhead a lot. If you have one problem with your motorcycle, I promise Cid and Cindy over at the auto shop will fix her up for you.” Despite the wall that blocks the garage from view, Noctis points in its direction. “They’re dependable.”

“That’s good to know. This is only my second day on the road, so it’s good to have tips.”

“I have tips.” Noctis doesn’t mean to brag, but after almost a decade of experience, he has traveling mostly figured out. “If you want any.”

Ignis rests his chin on his fist. “To be honest, it would help. I can adapt, but I still feel like I’ve made a grave error by quitting my job, selling everything in my apartment, and leaving a life that would have promised me a quiet retirement down the road.”

“You were looking for something else?” The thought echoes Noctis’ feelings. It’s the same reason Noctis doesn’t return to Insomnia and let his father lead him through the kind of life Ignis has just described. An apartment, a job, savings, retirement. The first taste of that life left Noctis choking in depression and dissatisfaction. Each day meant dreading having to get out of bed and do it all over again. 

Ignis smiles. “That’s exactly it.” 

“What tips do you want?” Noctis lifts his hands away from his hot chocolate and begins ticking off a list with his fingers. “How to earn extra cash when you need it, what to do if you break down in the desert, how to pitch a tent, what hotels are shady—” 

“I’m a good judge of character, and I think I can figure out a tent. But tell me what sorts of jobs people offer out this way. Maybe if I take on new experiences, I’ll find my calling.”

Noctis feels a little flutter in his chest. Let that calling take him to the same places as he’s going. Let it be sitting on a dock in Galdin, a line cast out to the sea. 

“All right, well…” 

Noctis spends the next hour discussing some of the many jobs he has taken, the ones that are often most available but temporary. The time slips away from both of them, but Noctis doesn’t feel like he’s _completely_ neglecting his son in favor of a stranger. Victor pops into the diner to ask politely for a little spending gil (no doubt to waste on the toy machines at the general store) and drink water several times. The windows nearby help Noctis spot his son periodically, too. 

But after fifteen minutes pass without seeing Victor, Noctis realizes he’ll have to risk ending his encounter with Ignis. 

“I haven’t seen my kid in a bit. I should probably go check on hi—” 

“Daddy! Daddy!” 

Victor darts into the diner with a jar in hand and shoves it in Noctis’ face. Any relief he felt at hearing his son’s voice quickly vanishes, and Noctis recoils by instinct further into his booth. Dread seeps into him as he sees the scorpion scurrying around on the other side of the glass.

“Look what I caught!” 

“That’s…” _Terrifying, absolutely terrifying._ Every dreadful scenario he could imagine taking place during the capture plays in his head. His parental instincts speed up his heartrate. “It didn’t sting you, did it?”

“No way! I caught it in a jar.”

“Yeah, I see that.” 

“Can I keep it?”

A pet scorpion? No way. He has refused his child every pet imaginable—a dog, a cat, various frogs and tadpoles caught by surprisingly crafty hands, and that one turtle Noctis lifted out of the road that left pee across the front of his shirt. Every time, Noctis has turned Victor down. They live on the road, and Noctis has his hands full taking care of Victor’s needs. He doesn’t need to be responsible for another life. 

“Victor, I don’t even know what scorpions eat or how big they get. It belongs in the wild.” Or dead, but he’s not about to suggest crushing a live animal to a five-year-old.

“Oh…” Victor hugs the jar close to his chest and sets his lips in a pout, eyes widened for full puppy-dog effect. 

It doesn’t work. Fatherhood has forced him to be strict with himself, which in turn means putting down his foot with his son. It absolutely sucks. Well, most of the time. Noctis doesn’t feel too guilty about turning away a _scorpion_. It isn’t like it’s a _kitten_. The day his son brings him a stray cat instead of simply asking if they can go adopt one is the day he caves.

Victor gives up after a minute, when it’s clear Daddy isn’t about to give in this time. He gazes into the jar and sighs theatrically.

“I gotta let it go?” Victor makes it sound like Noctis has asked him to take it to the gallows. 

“No, no—don’t do that. I… I’ll do it.” Noctis doesn’t take the jar, and curls his nose up at it when Victor sets it on the table next to his hot chocolate. If there is one part of his life in Insomnia he misses, it’s having fewer creepy-crawlies around.

“I can, if you wish?” asks Ignis, and Noctis—who nearly forgot he was there in his arachnophobia—glances up in appreciation. “I’ll release it across the road, where it won’t likely find its way back to Hammerhead.”

“Would you? Thanks so much.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Ignis stands and scoops up the jar. As he’s headed for the door, Noctis notices his new friend has a shadow.

“Victor,” calls Noctis sternly.

Both Victor and Ignis pause in the doorway of the diner. Victor turns to him with wide, hopeful eyes. 

“I’m just gonna watch!”

“I don’t want you anywhere near it. I’ve told you how dangerous scorpions can be.” Noctis needs to start including them in his warnings alongside snakes as an added reminder. “Why don’t you let Ignis handle it?”

“He could watch from this side of the road,” suggests Ignis. “Would that be a safe enough distance?”

Noctis considers this suggestion. “All right. Victor? I’m going to pay for this tab, and then we’ll stand over by the chocobo meter and watch Ignis release the scorpion.”

“Oh, I’ll pay for mine—”

Noctis handwaves the suggestion. His wallet is already halfway out of his back pocket before he has reached the main counter at Takka’s.

“Don’t worry about it. Consider this my thanks for releasing that.” He points to the jar before dipping in to extract his card. It isn’t like drinks are expensive, and he’s the one who invited Ignis to have them with him. “Victor, your books are on the table. Can you get them for me?”

Victor lets out a little groan, but he reluctantly stomps over to the table and fetches them. 

Takka grins at Noctis as he hands over his card. “Find a new friend?”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You should see the way _you’re_ looking at _him_.” 

“Shut up,” Noctis grumbles half-heartedly. “I know.” Ana loved taking pictures of him during his most embarrassing states, and she caught him in a photograph once, gazing at her like she lit up the sky every morning for him. And at one point, she did. When Victor came along, Ana captured a few candid photos of Noctis staring down at him as he slept, and his expression was the same. Although he has tried to hide most of his emotions and succeeded with varying results, when he feels love, it finds every crack in his exterior to escape from. 

Not that he loves Ignis after knowing him for half a morning. But he feels a connection being made between them. One that only seems to strengthen as he watches Ignis carefully cross the parking lot and the road with the jar in his hands. Most people would have left Noctis to take care of the scorpion. More than a few would have insisted he kill it—which he would have done if not for his child. Disregarding even annoying, semi-dangerous lifeforms is not a trait Noctis wants to instill in his little boy.

Noctis waits with Victor by the chocobo meter. Noctis takes his son’s hand.

The scorpion has to wait a few more meters before Ignis gingerly unscrews the cap of the jar on a rock nearly as tall as him. The prisoner is tipped out to its newfound freedom, and Ignis backs away two quick steps before holding up the empty container in triumph.

Noctis doesn’t feel like Ignis is safe until he has crossed the road back to them. 

“Thanks,” says Noctis, taking the jar and lid from Ignis. With a couple of quick turns, the top is screwed back on. Meaning to return it to its proper owner, Noctis asks, “Where’d you get this, Vicky?”

Victor hesitates.

“I need to give it back.”

Victor points to the recycling bins at the side of the general store. The kids are always going through it for ‘treasures’ because people throw in magazines and newspapers, which can be used to build paper planes. But the jar is glass.

“You could’ve been cut,” says Noctis severely. Now he understands why his father used to tease him for turning him prematurely gray. A few light strands have been threading through Noctis’ black tresses lately, and he’s pretty sure Victor’s the reason for each one. “Did you get cut?”

Victor shakes his head. “Nope!” As if knowing what his father will ask next, he shifts his books to pinch them between his arms and chest and holds up all ten fingers. Noctis kneels down and goes over them, one-by-one. Children get into all sorts of things. He’s only somewhat used to it, because he hasn’t entirely forgotten his own youthful mischief. Regis doesn’t exactly let him forget whenever Noctis complains to him about Victor’s ‘adventures’. 

“Next time you want a jar, ask me,” says Noctis in a tone he hopes comes across as firm enough to sink in.

Although his son pouts—likely because he’s been scolded in front of others—he doesn’t raise any argument. Noctis straightens up and turns to Ignis.

“I…” With his free hand, he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh. Thank you.”

“You’ve said that a few times.” There is that award-winning smile. If Noctis were younger and not raising a child, if he were a little more reckless, maybe he would reach up and kiss those lips sculpted right out of the heavens.

“I’d better throw this back in the bin.” Noctis holds up the glass jar. “Thanks for the drinks. I had a really good time.”

“As did I.” 

When Noctis can’t think of anything more to say, his chest clenches. It only does that some nights, when Victor is asleep and he remembers the person who used to bump his hip with hers to make him scoot over in bed for her. Or when he recalls the horrible things he said to his father before leaving Insomnia. 

He doesn’t want to say goodbye, and he flees to the bins in an effort to escape those feelings.

“Noctis!”

Noctis nearly drops the jar as he stops abruptly. Carefully, he turns back to Ignis, who is holding up his phone and wiggling it.

“May I have your number?”

Oh. Right. Noctis seldom uses his phone these days. In his younger years, he would spend hours playing games on it. These days, he doesn’t have a lot of time for that until after Victor’s bedtime. He calls his father every few days or sends him photos of his grandson, and sometimes Prompto texts him, but otherwise, Noctis doesn’t often use the device for communication.

“Sure. Hold on.” Noctis drops the jar in a bin first, and then dives into his pocket for his phone. Once he’s back within hearing distance, he rattles off his number. Ignis follows with his, and Noctis barely types it in before a notification pops up.

Ignis has texted him.

_Would you have drinks with me again?_

“Yes!” Noctis says it a little too eagerly and feels the tickle of a blush spread across his cheeks. 

“If I rent a room here tonight, would that be too soon?”

Noctis grins. “No. Victor goes to bed at eight. Is that too late? We can’t go further than the caravans, though, ‘cos I still need to stay close to him.”

“That’s fine. I’ll come by at eight thirty.”

Noctis is less sad to walk away from Ignis after that, knowing he’ll get to see him that evening. But he can’t let it distract him too long. There are chores and homework to think about, and Noctis is going to need to find time for a shower. That doesn’t stop him from wearing a stupid smile. 

“Daddy, did you make a new friend?”

“Yeah, his name is Ignis.”

“Cool. You need friends.”

Leave it to a five-year-old to point out all his flaws and shortcomings.


	2. Chapter 2

Ignis plans for any and all events. It’s in his nature. Taking his life on the road hadn’t been an easy decision. After careful deliberation, he let his lease go on his apartment, put in his two weeks’ notice at work, and sold off his furniture. The motorcycle he let collect dust despite renewing his license went to the garage for maintenance to make sure she was ready to go by the time he left the city. 

The crunch of corporate office life—the demanding hours, the high stress, the competition—could not be eased by good pay and benefits. At least money won’t be an issue for a while. If he decides to come back, he has confidence in his skills to return to his old job or find another. Despite this, all his family and friends tried to stop him.

They don’t understand how badly he has needed to escape for years.

In his mid-thirties, he still doesn’t have a husband or children—the two dreams he worked so hard to achieve for all those years. His job sucked away his free time until he stumbled home at one in the morning only to be up five hours later to do it again. Free weekends were a myth, and days bled into one another with no break. If Ignis had an hour, he used it for errands. On his rare days off, he caught up with friends while sleeping and cooking. Every day stood toes away from the edge of another just like it, each action weighing in on whether or not the next would go smoothly. 

Ignis has always been excellent at time and stress management, and his career once offered him a challenge he embraced. But after a decade, he knew if he didn’t do something unexpected, if he didn’t change up his life, he would break.

Going on the road offers him unpredictability that will keep him sharp but not stale. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for or if he’ll find it.

But he suspects he might have already stumbled upon it.

To think he almost drove by Hammerhead that morning! He had energy bars in his bag to last him all the way to Longwythe, but the sight of the diner gave him pause. How long had he eaten a big, indulgent breakfast? And wasn’t the point of his leaving to get new experiences? He should stop and enjoy the sights and new foods. 

Ignis barely noticed the other patrons in the diner as he focused on ordering a large helping of food. Tuning out the chatter around him, he glanced over a map on his phone and pinned locations he wanted to visit next. 

Then a stranger at the diner greeted him, and suddenly everything made sense and no sense all at once. 

Now Ignis is cleaning up in the caravan right next to Noctis’, willing the clock closer to eight-thirty. All his clothes seem ridiculously garish for someone traveling on the road. He leaves off the cologne. Noctis is a father who lives out of an RV, and Ignis will only be insulting rather than impressive if he thinks his corporate world belongs out here. 

Not that he doesn’t want to look nice. If it keeps Noctis staring at him, that will be good enough for Ignis. 

A shower is refreshing after not having one since leaving Insomnia. He lets his hair dry naturally and tucks his sleeves up to his elbows. Closer to time, he pops into the general store to have a look at what he might bring to drink. Boxed wine, beer, and wine coolers are the only alcoholic beverages Hammerhead carries. Is alcohol appropriate? Noctis is a father, and maybe he doesn’t want to drink even after his child has gone to bed.

Finally, Ignis decides to buy the boxed wine. In the event Noctis doesn’t want any, Ignis buys a couple of bottles of cold soda for him.

Despite all his years of surviving a high-pressure career, Ignis’ heart races as he crosses the lot to Noctis’ RV. Light escapes from a few of the windows, but most of the blinds are drawn. Ignis taps on the door gently with two knuckles. 

A few seconds later, the door opens. Noctis’ hair looks like it has finally seen a comb, and his dress shirt and slacks are basic but accentuate him in a way that suggests they were taken to a tailor. This only adds to Ignis’ curiosity. How does a man from Insomnia end up raising a child in roadside diners? Did he leave the same way Ignis did?

“Hey.” Noctis sounds a bit breathless.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, Victor was wound up. Kept asking me questions about you. So much for his earlier nonchalance.” Noctis gestures at a table with an umbrella big enough to include the four lawn chairs around it. “We can sit out over there. I hope you don’t mind being outside? It gets chilly at night. I can grab some throws if we need them.”

“That’s fine.” Ignis lifts up a paper sack. “I brought boxed wine and soda—in case you don’t want alcohol.”

Noctis grins. “Boxed wine is perfect. Thanks. Hold on, I’ll get some glasses.” He disappears into the house, and through the open doorway, Ignis catches a glimpse of a somewhat cluttered living space. A stack of school workbooks sits on the table, a line of stuffed animals taking up most of one booth. Comics and toys and children’s clothing are scattered on the built-in sofa that faces the door. 

Noctis returns, holding up two glasses bashfully. “I hope these are all right.”

Ignis laughs when he sees the video game characters decorating the plastic cups. “Will Victor mind?”

“These are mine…” 

“Oh, I think that’s better. I’d feel weird drinking alcohol from a child’s cup.”

Noctis’ shoulders relax, and Ignis barely catches a sigh.

“I’m not here to judge you,” says Ignis carefully. “The cups are fine. I’m sure you prefer plastic—wouldn’t you risk glass breaking when you travel? You seemed quite worried about glass shards with your son this morning.”

“Oh, yeah. Glass and scorpions.” Noctis grimaces as he closes the door behind him. “He knows how to make my life exciting. I appreciate you dealing with the scorpion. I can handle them if I’m killing them, but I didn’t…” 

“I understand. I was happy to help, and it gave me some excitement, too.”

They make their way to the table planted between the two vehicles. Noctis sets the cups down and takes one of the plastic chairs while Ignis removes the boxed wine from the bag to begin dispensing it.

“Now that you’re traveling, you’ll get plenty of excitement,” promises Noctis. “That won’t be your last scorpion if you stay here in Leide. There are tarantulas, too—you’ll find them all the way into Duscae.”

“What waits for me in Galdin?” ventures Ignis, handing Noctis his cup of wine.

“Jellyfish, stonefish—you know this already, don’t you?” Noctis narrows his eyes in playful suspicion.

Ignis laughs as he lowers into his own chair across from Noctis. “Yes, I do. But I like hearing you say it. I’m familiar with the world’s fauna and flora, and I reviewed it before leaving.”

“How long ago was that?” 

Ignis stares into his cup at the wine. In a short time, his former life feels as foreign as the miles he has put between here and Insomnia. “I set out yesterday morning, so about two days. And you?”

“Almost ten years.”

The number surprises Ignis. Nearly a decade? Victor can’t be more than maybe six. “You had your son on the road?”

“Not exactly. I say ten years, but there were breaks.”

An awkward pause follows, and Ignis worries he might have pushed in a direction Noctis doesn’t want to go. They are barely into their first date, and Ignis doesn’t want to make it a short one that will be their last. Even if he intends to continue traveling and taking on new experiences, even if he finds someone else, he really likes this flustered father who keeps cups with video game characters on them.

“You can ask as much as you’re comfortable hearing,” admits Noctis. “I don’t want to scare you away by telling you about my son’s mother or my life with her. That’s her. You’re you.”

It’s a simple, fair statement, and Ignis is grateful for it. He _wants_ to know, but Noctis is right: there ought to be a better time than the first twenty-four hours of knowing someone. 

“The same goes for you. I’ll tell you what you’re willing to hear, but I don’t want to scare you away either.”

Their eyes meet, and neither can control themselves. The laughter that follows breaks away the ice that had started to form. 

“I’m bad at this. Really bad.” Noctis shakes his head, still chuckling. In the light generated by the caravan and the streetlamps, Ignis makes out the pink blush across Noctis’ cheeks and the tips of his ears. Or maybe it’s the chill that’s seeping into the desert night that has his skin flushed. 

“I can’t say I’m any better at this.”

Ignis refuses to admit that he has seldom dated many people, and most of them were never approved for a second date. Whenever they were rude to restaurant staff or vocalized honest hatred for pets or children, he ended things before they could begin. Sometimes he genuinely enjoyed a person’s company, but there wasn’t a connection made, and they went separate ways. His work schedule cancelled a few dinners. A few men couldn’t forgive him enough to postpone. 

“Good, I guess that means we’re equal.” Noctis winks before taking a sip of wine. “You picked out one of the better brands of boxed wine. I haven’t had any in ages.”

“I have never had boxed wine.” Ignis gives it a cautious taste and decides that while it might not be of the flavor he has come to expect from wine, it isn’t unenjoyable. He lifts his glass to toast. “To a new experience?”

“Heck yeah,” agrees Noctis, gently bumping his cup against Ignis’. “What else do you hope to experience while you’re on the road?”

“Mountains, oceans, fresh air. I hear there are museums in Altissia.”

“Lots, but I’ve never been to most of them. Guess I spent most of my time eating all the food while I was there.”

“I intend to do that as well.” Ignis hums. “Isn’t there a haunted castle somewhere in Accordo?”

“Oh, I know the one! I’ve been to it, and it’s only a little creepy. The big tours and overacting from the guides kind of kill the experience. If you like history and stuff, you might like it more.”

The ‘history and stuff’ and lack of museum visits makes Ignis suspect that Noctis is not so much into these things. It isn’t a problem for Ignis—everyone has different interests—but it’s extra insight into the kind of person Noctis is.

“I’m more interested in the food,” says Ignis, and it’s true. Museums can either be fascinating or boring, depending on how they’re presented. Noctis’ description of the haunted castle tour is proof enough of that. “And the flowers…”

“The flowers are gorgeous year-round, but I like them best in late September and early October.”

“You’ve spent lots of time in Altissia?” Ignis offers the observation as more of a question.

Noctis takes a slow drink before answering. “Victor was born there. We were there for a while, before, during, and after.”

“I see. I don’t suppose he was born in autumn?” Ignis doubts it but asks anyway; if Noctis had been referring fondly to his son’s birth and not the flowers, he would have only said one month, not two.

“Oh, no, he was born on December first. Altissia doesn’t get very cold in winter, but the winter decorations are pretty, too. And tuna dishes are popular around that time of year!” 

“You’re going to make me hungry,” teases Ignis. “I guess I did mention I was interested in the food, didn’t I?”

“Which is one of the only things I can tell you about, unless you care about fishing.” Noctis dips his head down and takes another sip of his wine.

“Tell me about that, too,” says Ignis, not because he intends to fish, but because he wants to hear Noctis talk about something he cares about passionately. 

Noctis tells him a bit at first, opening up more with encouragement. Ignis listens to every detail, from the people Noctis would sometimes fish with, to the best lures and which seasons are the best for which fish. The boxed wine helps to loosen the tongue, too, and there are less pauses where Ignis has to press Noctis to continue on. 

The next time Noctis stops, it’s to rub his arms and say, “Should I get those blankets?”

“Yes, I think that would be best. It has gotten chilly out here.”

“Good, I want to check on Victor, too.”

Noctis hurries back to his RV, and Ignis uses his absence to scoot their chair together, right outside of the umbrella, so they can sit beside one another. When Noctis returns, he grins.

“I guess we can keep each other warm?” It sounds as if Noctis meant for the line to be flirtatious, but it comes across as more factual. “Uh, well. If you like my glasses, you’ll love these.” He holds up the blankets, one in each fist. Both are patterned with characters from popular children’s shows. 

“Yours or Victor’s?” Ignis’ mouth hurts from all the smiling and laughter. That is the effect Noctis is having on him: making him so happy he can’t stop grinning.

“I suppose you only want me to answer that because you like hearing me say it?”

“You’re catching on.”

Noctis rolls his eyes and tosses one of the blankets over. It has clouds and a green field, with cartoonish dinosaurs on it. Ignis pulls it around his shoulders and takes one of the chairs. The chill in the air is combated only a little, but it helps when Noctis sits down beside him, scooting his chair as close as he can get to Ignis. 

“The stars are nice.” 

“They are,” agrees Ignis. “I used to be obsessed with constellations as a little boy.” 

“Me, too! I pestered my dad to let me stay up late, but unless there was some neat event like a meteor shower or eclipse, he wouldn’t let me. I’d sneak out—or try. Dad always figured out what I was up to most of the time.” 

“I used my bedroom window to look at the stars,” says Ignis. “I managed to fool my parents into thinking I was asleep when they went to bed, and then I’d wait an hour before wandering out of bed.”

“That’s clever. I was not that clever.” Noctis shakes his head. “My dad picked up on the nights I would beg, and sure enough, I’d wander out as soon as he pretended to go to bed. I’d tell him that’s how passionate I was about seeing the stars! That always got me in more trouble.”

“Do you have a favorite constellation? Mine is the tonberry, because I could always see it on my birthday, from my bedroom.”

“Tonberry? That’s…” Noctis pauses. “February.”

“Yes. The seventh.”

“Now I know your birthday! Mine’s August thirtieth.” 

“Yes, but I still don’t know your favorite constellation.” Ignis chuckles.

“Easy. Carbuncle.” Noctis’ finger shoots up, pointing directly to the stars shining near the road leading back toward Insomnia. “He’s a little faded this time of year, and I don’t have a cute story about my birthday, since he’s only visible in May.”

“Is there a cute story about why he’s your favorite?” asks Ignis, nudging Noctis’ shoulder with his own. 

“Not really, I just loved Carbuncle growing up, and when I found out about his constellation, it was instantly my favorite. When Victor was born, I had a custom plush made for him in Altissia, so he could have his own Carbuncle.”

“That is a cute story.” 

“Not as cute as yours.”

“Nonsense. They’re unique, and they are ours. That makes them special.”

Noctis turns to Ignis, and it can’t be only the cold that turns his face bright red. “Can I kiss you?” The words come out a rushed jumble.

Ignis, having wanted to very much kiss Noctis a few times that evening, answers by lowering his lips to Noctis’. The warmth of their touch spreads, and Ignis draws Noctis closer with a palm at his neck. The kiss lasts for only a minute, but it is enough to make Ignis’ heart burst with elation.

“I don’t want to go to bed,” says Noctis quietly. “Tonight’s been good. I don’t want it to end.”

Ignis checks his watch. They’ve managed to skirt a little past midnight. “I had a lovely night, Noctis. I won’t drive off and never talk to you again. I have your number, and we’ll meet up again. Besides, I’ll see you in the morning. Maybe we can…” He thinks. “You’re headed to Galdin?”

“In a few days, yeah.”

“Let’s meet up in Galdin. That should give me time to enjoy some of the sights in Leide and maybe Duscae before meeting up with you again. We can have dinner.”

Noctis smiles, but his eyelids droop, as does his head as it looks for something to lean on. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

It takes only a minute to return the table to its previous state, and Noctis takes the bottles of soda that Ignis won’t drink, while Ignis pitches the box of wine. 

“You’ll need this back,” says Ignis, and he takes off the blanket and deposits it on Noctis’ shoulders. “Goodnight, Noct.” He doesn’t know if shortening the name will be met with objection, and it surely isn’t, because Noctis lifts up on his toes and presses his lips against Ignis’ once more.

“Goodnight, Iggy.”

The nickname makes Ignis smile stupidly, and he waits until Noctis is safely through the door before he retreats to his own temporary quarters.


	3. Chapter 3

Noctis is up early enough—anyone with a young child loses the privilege of sleeping in—to see Ignis off. There is no kiss in front of Victor, but Ignis promises to text over the next few days. 

“I’ll send you pictures of my adventures,” says Ignis. 

“Sounds good.” More than good. Noctis will have to make a point to keep busy and not check his phone every ten minutes. 

The morning is ripe, a chill breeze leftover from the cold night. The sun peaks over the mountains, reflecting off the chrome of Ignis’ motorcycle as it sets out on the road. Victor keeps waving goodbye until the bike disappears from their view. 

“He’s cooler than you, Daddy.”

Noctis sighs. “Love you, too, Victor. I’m glad aloe vera grows out here naturally, I’m going to need something to treat all these burns you’re giving me. Maybe I am cool, and you don’t know it?”

“You can’t be cool. You’re my daddy.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive,” mutters Noctis, but he’s far too tired to defend his reputation against a five-year-old.

Victor doesn’t answer, but he hugs his dad, burrowing his face into Noctis’ stomach. That’s all Noctis needs to know that even if he’s really uncool, that doesn’t mean he’s unloved. The concept of his awesomeness wasn’t in question until recently. Maybe it’s living on the road and seeing so many adults without children, and all Noctis has in his life is fatherhood. No interesting vehicles, artistic skills beyond life sketches, or musical talents—he’s one in a million now.

Ignis is cool because he has a motorcycle instead of dad duties. Not that Noctis is going to say that to his son. Kids are far too impressionable, and the last thing Victor needs is to think he’s put an end to Noctis’ better days.

He’s _part_ of Noctis’ better days. If it weren’t for Victor, Noctis might have even reverted back into a cocoon after Ana’s death. And it’s not because Victor’s also Ana’s son that makes him so important. That might be part of it, but Victor is every bit his own person. In looks, he resembles his father. The only difference is his green eyes, which are different from both his parents’ blue eyes. 

“You know, I think you’re pretty awesome even if you don’t think I’m awesome,” says Noctis, ruffling his son’s dark hair. 

“Daddy’s Daddy.”

“Guess I am.” Noctis pulls out his phone hopefully, but it hasn’t been long since Ignis’ departure, and he is unsurprised to see he doesn’t have any messages. “And Daddy needs to charge his phone.”

Victor pulls away and follows Noctis back into their home. Yesterday’s excitement meant some chores have slipped, and once Noctis has Victor settled at the table with his homework, he dashes off to plug his phone in. Upon his return, questions related to schooling are at the ready, along with a pile of dishes leftover from the last two meals. The only good thing about living out of an RV is that Noctis can clean and still be within distance to help his son. All of is easy to Noctis, but the five-year-old says a lot more than he can spell. Putting down the names of colors means plenty of errors. 

Noctis is a proud papa when he realizes Victor still gets most of them right. They go over the corrections together before he’s ready to plop into bed for a nap. Victor isn’t, however, and Noctis can only keep going and hope he gets a second wind. Staying up past midnight was both wonderful and reckless, and he suffers for it now.

“Let’s go outside and play,” says Noctis, putting away Victor’s workbooks. 

His son jumps up and rushes to pull on his shoes. It’s nice to chase the kid around out behind Hammerhead, where there are no cars or other people to worry about. _Just snakes and scorpions._ There doesn’t seem to be any nearby when Noctis sweeps over the area. They have a chance to run around, chasing one another and letting out plenty of energy. Victor sneaks around the bushes and screams in delight when Noctis catches him by swinging him up into the air. 

“You having fun there?” calls out a voice, and Noctis glances up with a child dangling from his arms to see Cid heading their way. 

“Were we loud?” The question is more of a formality than an apology. Noctis has worried over it in the past and damn well knows the answer.

Cid snorts and waves his hand. “It’s the desert. Let the boy holler—it freaks out the coyotes.” 

As Noctis untangles his son’s limbs and sets him back to the ground, he considers why Cid is there. 

“My dad called you.”

“No, but I want you to call him.” Cid reaches into his pocket and produces a tennis ball he often uses to throw around with Victor. “Noctis, get over here so I can talk to you.” The last bit is said snappishly, as if Noctis is an obnoxious teen who has just pissed off his grandfather. 

While Cid tosses the tennis ball back and forth with Victor, he lets Noctis know why he’s there.

“Saw you out late last night.”

Noctis remembers the kisses he shared with Ignis and scowls. “Were you spying?”

“Nope, just saw you with that same fellow yesterday morning, too. Figured there might be something there.”

“I just met him.”

“Good. Why don’t you call your daddy and tell him about it?”

Noctis leans against one of the vehicles parked out back and immediately regrets it as the heat of the metal body sears against his back, even though his shirt. Shooting up, he opts instead for jamming his hands into his pockets.

“You owe Reggie a visit. If you won’t do that, at least call him. He’d appreciate hearing from you.”

“I do call him.”

“Yeah, but do you talk to him?”

“Yes. Mostly about Victor, but we talk.”

The tennis ball breezes past them, and Noctis has to retrieve it from under one of the cars. As he’s dropping it in Cid’s waiting palm, the old man starts on him again.

“I had a falling out with Reggie years ago.”

“You’ve both mentioned that plenty of times.”

“I don’t want you making the same mistake. He’ll forgive you faster than he did me, ‘cos you’re his son.”

“He’ll just criticize how I live and ask me to move back. It’ll be the same as before I left—he takes care of everything, and I follow, ‘cos I feel like it’s my duty to take the jobs he gives me and the checks he writes me.”

Cid snorts. “Hard life, being spoiled. Can’t say I relate.”

“I was unhappy.”

Cid’s voice and expression soften. “I know you were. And maybe things will get even better, if you work them out with yer daddy and stay with that nicely dressed motorcycle fellow.”

“His name’s Ignis, and I only just met him so it’s not like I can say it’s serious yet.”

“Don’t tell me. Phone yer damn daddy and tell him that!” Cid elbows Noctis roughly in the ribs, and for an old man, he can still make it hurt. 

“Fine,” says Noctis, but he sounds more whiny than agreeable. No wonder Victor doesn’t think he’s cool. “I’ll call him once my phone charges.”

The phone is still in the RV, and Noctis hasn’t had time to check it since plugging it in. Maybe Ignis has sent him a message? 

“All right, Vicky, I need to get back to work,” says Cid, catching the ball and returning it to his pocket. “You say hello to your grandpa when your daddy calls him later, got that?”

Great, now Noctis has no choice but to reach out to Regis. The gleam in Cid’s eyes suggests this was intentional.

Victor’s face lights up before he leaps over to Noctis. “You’re gonna call Grandpa?”

“Yeah, when my phone charges. You can talk to him first.”

When they return to the RV, the phone is finished charging up, and Ignis has left a text letting Noctis know he made it to Longwythe. It is accompanied by a picture of the peak. 

Noctis keeps his reply short, because Victor is hanging over his shoulder.

_Glad you’re having fun, keep me updated!_

“Is that your new friend?”

“Yup.”

“But I thought you were going to call Grandpa?”

“Let me text him first, see if he’s free.” Regis has a flexible work schedule these days since he retired, but Noctis prefers to give Regis a warning that he’s phoning. It’s more about where his dad might be, who his dad might be with. It isn’t the same when Regis calls. It isn’t often, but sometimes the phone will ring in the middle of the day without any notice beforehand. The two of them mean to talk more, they really do, but… 

Neither of them knows exaclty what to say.

The responding text comes in at the same time Ignis sends one, but Noctis will get an earful from his son if he lets the other messenger distract him. 

_I’m home, looking forward to your call!_

Noctis hates dialing up anyone, even with permission. If Ignis were to call, it would turn him into a bit of a mess. Texts have helped him manage his social interactions better. There is never a rush to reply unless he’s eager to see it right away—such as the case with Ignis—and he can answer them in the middle of a sleepless night without worrying about waking someone up. Most of his communication with Prompto is in the dead of night.

The phone rings twice. Before Noctis can finish greeting Regis, Victor pops up and squeals, “Hi, Grandpa!”

“I’ll let you talk to him first,” says Noctis, turning on the speaker settings. “Victor, let’s keep an eye on the battery. I need to talk to him when you’re done.” _And see Ignis’ texts._

Victor doesn’t sound like he intends to ever let Noctis talk to Regis. He squirms on Noctis’ lap, telling Regis all about how he bravely captured a scorpion—with Noctis’ interjections about how he went through a glass bin to find a jar—and how many kids he plays with in Hammerhead.

“Daddy made a new friend, too.”

Noctis widens his eyes.

“Oh?” Noctis can hear the devious grin in his father’s voice.

“He let the scorpion go ‘cos Daddy was too afraid, and he rides a motorcycle!” 

“I wasn’t afraid,” grumbles Noctis, though leave it to Victor to ignore that his safety was behind most of his fear.

“Now he’s sending Daddy pictures of mountains!”

“That sounds like Prompto,” says Regis. “He takes photos, doesn’t he?”

“I can have more friends than just Prompto,” says Noctis defensively. “Besides, Prompto doesn’t drive a motorcycle.”

“It’s a miracle anyone lets him drive anything.”

Noctis can’t argue with that statement. “His name is Ignis.”

“Ignis,” Regis repeats thoughtfully. Noctis can hear the old man trying to piece together the little info he has been given, and he _hates_ that it bothers him so much. 

But there was a time years ago when Noctis called to say he’d eloped in Altissia, and Regis—still stinging from the harsh words exchanged before Noctis left Insomnia—confessed that he didn’t know where he stood in his son’s life anymore. They argued over Regis’ life advice. Were Ana and Noctis interested in coming to Insomnia, where Regis could give them a full wedding? Were they saving enough? Did they manage all right on the road?

All of Regis’ parental concerns sounded like criticism at the time, but looking back, he never once told Noctis he was wrong. 

If Noctis could do it all over again, he would have talked instead of resisted. He would have still eloped, still lived on the road, and still had Victor. But he would have told his father about how happy he was, how much he was looking forward to his unborn child, how beautiful Altissia looked in the autumn while he walked the streets with his pregnant wife.

Noctis can’t do that to Regis again. Maybe Cid’s a meddling old coot, but he’s right about them needing to communicate.

“I had drinks with Ignis. A date. He’s not my boyfriend, Dad, but he…” Noctis swallows. “He could be. We’re going to meet up in Galdin in a few days for another date.”

Regis doesn’t answer at first. But after a minute, he says, “What does he look like?”

“Not like a guy who rides a motorcycle,” admits Noctis, letting out a relieved laugh. “He cleans up nice.”

“Nice enough to look like he might work in corporate Lucis?”

“Ah, yeah…” Noctis feels his throat tighten. “Why?”

“Brown hair?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I know him, Noctis. Is his last name Scientia?”

“Oh, we didn’t exchange last names…” Noctis feels embarrassed to admit it.

“If he’s the same man, I’ve seen him give speeches and at dinners. He’s polite. I recently heard he quit—” 

“I don’t want to hear all that,” says Noctis quickly. “It’ll feel weird if it _is_ him, and you tell me everything before he can.”

Regis quiets, and for a moment, Noctis is afraid he might have made him upset. 

“I understand. You must have a great deal of respect for him. If he’s who I think he is, he deserves it.”

That means a lot to Noctis, but he chokes up when he tries to say anything. Regis never met Ana. The two of them might have been close as father and daughter-in-law. Maybe they would have teased Noctis together. But it is too late for that. Ana is gone. The same mistake doesn’t have to be repeated. Living on the road doesn’t mean Noctis has to avoid Insomnia forever. It isn’t as if the city will capture him and never let him leave again, even if Noctis has his suspicions about its sentience.

“When we get things figured out, I’ll let you know,” says Noctis. “I’ll tell you how things went in Galdin.”

It’s the first promise he’s made to keep in better touch with his father. An apology seems hollow and insincere when given over the phone, but maybe Regis would prefer this to an apology. 

“And maybe we can plan a visit soon?”

It’ll be the first time Regis has seen Victor in person since Ana’s funeral. All their energy went into taking care of a distraught toddler who couldn’t see his mother anymore. Neither of them ever had the opportunity to talk properly. 

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for over three years, Noctis.” Regis’ voice is soft, a mixture of joy, relief, and sadness. “We’ll set up a date after you’re done in Galdin.”

“Yeah.” 

Victor bursts in with another story for his grandfather—this time about a toy he scored from one of the claw machines. He leaves out some vital pieces, like the part where after half a dozen attempts, Cid took a screw driver to a side panel in the machine and extracted the desired stuffed animal himself. The chocobo is named Banana, because both are yellow. 

“And yellow’s my favorite color!” 

It is only yellow because his son has been interested in chocobos lately—last month, it was green, because of Talcott Hester passing through with a collection of cactuar figurines lined up on the dash of his truck. The month before that, Victor was obsessed with pink and white because of moogles. It always changes.

Until then, Noctis is stuck for an undetermined amount of time making sure most of Victor’s foods and trinkets are yellow. 

“Daddy, I’m getting hungry.”

“Oh, right.” A glance at the clock tells Noctis they’re a bit past lunchtime. For a little kid, that’s ages. “Dad, I’d better let you go.”

“Of course. Please call me again. I could get used to hearing from you more often…”

“Yeah, I’ll make a better habit of it.” 

“All right, goodbye.” 

“Bye.” 

Both of them wait for the other to hang up, and Noctis gets the impression Regis is hoping to hang on for as long as he can before the moment is over. It makes him feel bad. Rotten, even. Enough to end the call first, as if cutting away his guilty conscience. But that doesn’t work at all, and he’s left stewing in his thoughts as he prepares sandwiches and apple slices for lunch. What kind of son is Noctis? The worst, probably—his dad has never been awful to him and doesn’t deserve to be cut out of his life. All Regis is guilty of is paving the way for Noctis so he’s never had to work nearly as hard as his parents did to get as far. What did Noctis do with all the handouts? He tossed out his job. 

And worst of all, doing so was one of the best decisions of his life. He doesn’t have regrets. Victor happily munches on his food and offers his apple slices to Banana, and Noctis thinks about how much he’d do even the hardest parts of his life all over again for that single silly moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Have I mentioned I have fun writing kids? I love that this story gives me a decent chance to write him, as opposed to the other fics he's been featured in. :') 
> 
> I wanted to keep Victor’s green eyes, because as an adopted child in other stories, I liked the idea of him having black hair like Noct and green eyes like Ignis. But since he’s genetically Noct’s (and Ana's) child in this, I had to choose something genetically possible. Ana is just…whatever genetically lets Victor be the way he is, apparently. Her name is even chosen because I don’t know anyone by that name (that I can think of) and I’m unlikely to ever use it for one of my original stories. All I have on her personality is that she liked motorcycles and horror. I bet she tried to scare Noctis a lot for shits and giggles. :D


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days, Ignis allows himself time to meander. Every unmarked road is worth venturing down. The sun warms his back through his jacket, dust clouds kick up behind his motorcycle, and the nature of Leide surrounds him on all sides.

Never has his mind been so clear as when he’s driving. On his way to work, it was just the same, but now it’s even better because his thoughts don’t drift to work. They don’t have to, and he doesn’t let them. Ignis spends more time remembering his dreamlike date with Noctis. If not for the texts they pass back and forth, he would be worried it never happened at all. That’s one of many reasons he sends pictures of landmarks to Noctis, clinging to their correspondence back and forth. 

All his traveling since Hammerhead seems more like a way to pass the time than a method of finding himself. It isn’t like he has come even close to sorting out what he’ll do in his future. It’s too soon to tell where things will go with Noctis.

But he likes that direction more than any others he has travelled so far.

He’s all too relieved the morning he sets off for the oceanside resort. The sea breeze caresses his hair. At the top of the hill, before he makes his way down the winding highway to Galdin, he stops in at a viewing point and places his helmet on. He doesn’t trust those curves even with his skills on his motorcycle.

It makes his heart race as he careens his bike down to the beachside parking lot. Before he has finished lowering his kickstand, he sees two familiar black-haired figures playing on the beach. The shouts of an excited child reach his ears as he tugs off his helmet. Ignis sits for a few minutes, watching Noctis chase his son. Once Noctis had him within reach, he lifts the boy into his arms and spins. This doesn’t go well. Noctis loses his footing and lands on his backside, Victor held securely against is chest. From the sound of their laughter, however, it seems no one is injured.

Ignis knows in that moment that he has no regrets about his newfound romance.

Noctis is back on his feet before Ignis reaches him, and Victor notices his approach first.

“Look, Daddy, it’s your friend!”

Noctis is still swiping sand off the seat of his pants, but he twists around so he can grin at Ignis.

“Welcome to Galdin.”

“Daddy, it’s Galdin Quay!” Victor turns to Ignis. “I can even spell it! Q-U-A-Y.”

“Yup, he can even spell it, as of yesterday,” agrees Noctis, mussing his son’s hair with his fingers. Something in his gaze tells Ignis they must have been practicing it the day before. 

“Q-U-A-Y, do I have that right?” asks Ignis, checking each letter off on his fingers until he’s holding up four. 

Victor nods. “You said it slower, though, so I win.”

“Oh, what’s the prize?”

“Tickling?” suggests Noctis.

“No, Daddy! A seashell.”

“Hmm, go pick one out then.” He steers the boy around to face the ocean and shoos him off with a flap of his hands. With his careful watch still on Victor, he starts chatting to Ignis. “He’s been a handful since we got here.”

“I imagine it’s quite exciting for him to be at the beach.”

Noctis snorts. “You have no idea. I take on odd jobs wherever I go, but it’s not like I have a babysitter. Yesterday, I got some work bussing tables. He was supposed to sit and do his homework, and if he finished, he had a coloring book. I left for one minute and he’d wandered off to ask the massage therapist fifty questions. Now he knows a bunch of stuff about pressure points.” 

“He’s precocious, isn’t he?” 

“You picked up on that?” 

Noctis spares a glance at Ignis, who nods. Both of them watch Victor kneel down in the wet sand and dig his fingers in to grab at a seashell. After a quick examination and apparent disapproval, the child then flings it into the ocean and wanders further down to find one that does meet his expectations. 

“He’s picky,” says Noctis. “I guess it’s ‘cos I limit his souvenirs, and now he has to make sure he gets the perfect one. We could be out here for a while.”

“I don’t mind. It’s a lovely day.” The sun isn’t too bright thanks to a bit of cloud coverage, and the coastal breeze is refreshing. The air is filled with the sound of playing beachgoers and the smell of delectable fish dishes being grilled at the resort. “I’ve been sitting on my motorcycle for two hours. It’s nice to be on my feet again. Shall we follow behind him?”

“Yeah, before he wanders off too far.” 

Victor stands only fifteen feet away from them, but Ignis can sense why Noctis wants to keep an eye on him at all times when next to the ocean. The waves lap over the boy’s sandaled feet occasionally, some even going up over his ankles. A couple of jellyfish litter the sand, but Victor wisely steps around them. All it would take is one misstep. Ignis finds a new anxiety about the child’s safety rising within him.

“How was the ride down here?” asks Noctis. 

Ignis reaches out for Noctis’ hand and is delighted when it is taken. “Not fast enough.” 

“Did you miss me?” Noctis leans his head back theatrically.

“You tease, but it’s true.”

“Hm, good. I missed you, too.” Noctis pauses long enough to check out the backpack strapped to Ignis. “Is that all you carry with you?”

“For now. I’m trying the minimalistic approach, since I don’t have much room for luggage.”

“I used to be like that, and sometimes I miss it. Now I’ve got an RV filled with kid stuff.”

“I’ve noticed.” 

“It’s clean for now. I might even let you come in.” Noctis swings their hands a little harder between them, seeming pleased with himself. 

“I’d like the grand tour.”

“I’ll have Victor give you one later, he loves doing that kind of thing. If you want, there’s space enough for you to take one of the spare bunks. We have two,” Noctis holds up two fingers and wiggles them back and forth, “but the top one is Victor’s. Most of the time, he prefers my bed, but he needs somewhere to store his five hundred stuffed animals.” 

“Victor will have to introduce me to each of them.”

“If you have the time. He really has a lot of them, even if there’s only about thirty.”

Ignis laughs, his carefree voice carried off in the breeze. There’s something refreshing about Noctis’ unashamed embrace of fatherhood. He’s not some polished version of a man sitting in a conference room or across the table to look his best for a date. Getting to know him is seeing his cartoon-patterned belongings, his toy-filled RV, and the way his hair is combed but only just so to keep it from knotting. (Which does little blasted good for either of them as the wind kicks up and blows their styling amuck.)

Victor leaps up suddenly and comes bounding over to them, something enclosed in his sand-encrusted fingers. Noctis bends down to take a look at the acquired shell.

“Now that’s a pretty one,” says Noctis, whistling. “Guess we’ll have to put that in your collection, don’t you agree?”

“Yeah!”

“Maybe I should find a seashell, too,” says Ignis thoughtfully. “I don’t have any souvenirs yet. Would you help me find one, Victor? Would that be okay with your father?”

Victor’s eyes widen pleadingly at Noctis, who nods. “Yeah! Daddy, hold this for me. Keep it safe!” He carefully passes his prize into Noctis’ palm and dashes back to the water’s edge in search of the perfect shell.

“Do you have room for a shell in your luggage?” Noctis speaks in a low voice, not hiding his doubt.

“I’ll make room,” promises Ignis. “Maybe I’ll find someone to make a necklace from it, and I’ll wear it.”

“I bet someone around here can do that for you,” says Noctis. “There are a lot of events and fairs here, and I’m sure someone will be selling jewelry. I bet you could commission a piece.”

“I’ll have a look, then.” 

“You’d make Victor’s day. In fact, if you make his day, you make mine.” Noctis stops suddenly, turning to Ignis. There’s a flush of color across his cheeks, and he doesn’t make eye contact. “It’s kind of…attractive. How good you are with him.”

“Am I? Let me know if I’m doing it wrong.”

“Oh, no, I think Victor likes you. That’s a good sign. He knows the difference between someone who’s trying to flatter him and someone who means what they say. You’re not sending him off to get a shell to humor him, right?”

“No, of course not.”

“See?” Noctis leans in until he’s within inches of Ignis’ face. “Can I kiss you on the cheek?”

Ignis grins and can’t resist an opportunity to tease. “In front of your son?”

“He’s not even looking this way!”

Ignis bends his head closer as a sign of permission and delights in the flustered way in which Noctis brushes his lips against his cheek. It’s over and done with far too soon for his liking, but that’s all made up for by the sight of Noctis’ bright pink face.

For a while, Noctis faces the ocean, but his fingers curl around Ignis’ tightly. Nearby, Victor flings rejected shells into the water. They disappear with a plop to the ocean depths, likely to be washed ashore some other time. 

“I like it here,” says Noctis softly as Ignis steps up beside him to take in the same view. 

“It’s lovely,” agrees Ignis. “Even the resort doesn’t distract from the natural beauty of the sea.”

“Yeah. I’m glad you could make it here to be with us.” Noctis glances around Ignis, and before Ignis has a chance to say he feels the same, Noctis lets out a little victory hum. “Ah, looks like he found your souvenir!” 

Ignis kneels down beside the child as his shell is presented. It is a cockle shell, white with strips of deep and light purples. The bands fade into the white. The underside of the shell is only big enough to fit the tip of his thumb in it, making it the perfect size for a necklace. 

“This is absolutely beautiful, Victor, where did you find it?”

“Over there!” Victor points to some stretch of ocean a few feet away. 

“Thank you so much, I’ll treasure it. I’m hoping I can make a necklace of it—would that be all right?”

“Really? I wanna see!”

Noctis chuckles and guides his son a little closer. “He’s gotta have it made first. But right now, we’re going back to our house. Do you want to give Ignis a tour?”

“Yeah!” 

Victor bounces several feet ahead of them on the trek back to the parking lot. The weight of the backpack is suddenly on Ignis’ mind, as if he’s keen to get it off his shoulders. He didn’t plan on carrying it around for so long. He’s not sure he’ll take up Noctis’ offer to sleep in the RV on one of the spare bunks yet.

The RV is as clean as Noctis promised. All the toys have been tucked away in storage beneath the seats facing the door. Victor pulls out the drawers to show off what is clearly the work of an adult making the best of the little space they have. Books on the shelves are kept in place by elastic bands. Most of them are school-related or aimed for small children, with a few exceptions. A laptop sits on a mini fold-out table, separate from the larger dining space with booths. 

Noctis wasn’t kidding about the toys. They fill all but a small human-shaped spot in the center of the topmost bunk. The one underneath is cleared except for a pillow and some folded blankets pushed up at the top, and the sheets that cover the slender mattress. 

“You prepared for me, didn’t you?” asks Ignis, raising an eyebrow at Noctis.

“Well, you don’t have to stay with us. If you’d prefer the resort, that’s fine. Or there are trailers to rent out here—campsites, too, if that’s your thing.”

“I do have a tent.” It’s a small thing, packed away in a storage compartment at the back of his motorcycle, but he hasn’t once used it and regrets taking it along. But if he gets rid of it, he’ll find a use soon enough for it, and then he’ll be ashamed not to have it.

“Tried that, but I prefer beds.”

“Daddy has the biggest bed!” Victor grabs Ignis’ hand and pulls him to the other side of the RV, right next to the entrance. Up a small set of stairs is the part that usually sets over the bed of a truck, and it holds a queen-sized bed and a wedge of a closet. There’s only enough space to walk around the bed, and a ledge with more storage runs beneath the windows, acting as something of a headboard. Noctis doesn’t have much stored there beyond a few more of Victor’s beloved toys—the most precious ones, given the stains and battered looks of every single one—and a couple of children’s books.

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” says Noctis.

“It’s marvelous.” It has all the touches Ignis’ old apartment lacked. People live here, daily. Ignis can easily see Noctis and Victor curled up together before bedtime, one of those books open as the child dozes off with one of his toys lovingly squeezed to his chest. This is where memories have been made, where the walls are more than just a roof over one’s head. 

This isn’t exactly the life Ignis imagined for himself years ago, but it’s equal in value. All he has wanted is a family. 

In some ways, he’s jealous of Noctis. 

“Would you like some tea while you decide whether to stay here or at the resort? Or camp?” Noctis smirks, arms crossed over his chest.

“Tea? I suppose I could go for a cup.” Ignis still hasn’t made up his mind on where he intends to rest his head for the next few days. Spontaneous choices must have their limits. “What kind of tea?” 

“Well, I don’t really drink it, but it’s herbal stuff I keep around for Vicky when he gets sick.” Noctis leads Ignis back into the open area and begins to rifle through his cabinets. Once he finds the box, he turns it in his hands, examining the label. “It’s just some lemon honey stuff, that okay? I’ve also got hot chocolate and marshmallows. They’re shaped like chocobos.” 

“Chocomallows!” Victor leaps up and down in delight. “I want some!”

“They’re yellow,” says Noctis, and he covers his mouth enough his son can’t see but Ignis can and mouths, “like piss.”

Ignis has to purse his lips not to laugh.

“The tea is kind of yellow, too,” says Noctis, setting the kettle on a burner and taking mugs out from the cabinet. 

“I think I can handle it.” 

“Daddy! I want hot chocolate!” Victor holds up three fingers. “And three marshmallows.” Another finger pops up, and after some debate, another, all divided between both hands. “Five marshmallows.”

“That’s an awful lot, buddy. Three’s enough. Remember, these are big marshallows, not like the mini ones we usually use.” Noctis reaches down and ruffles his son’s hair. 

“Can I have one before it goes in my hot chocolate?”

“All right, just one, but that only leaves you with two in your hot chocolate.”

“I’m good!”

Noctis takes out the bag and snaps off the rubber band latching one end closed. He drops one into Victor’s waiting palm before offering the open end of the bag to Ignis.

Ignis is about to smile and turn it down, but he can’t even remember what marshmallows taste like. He reaches in. The oddly shaped confectionary doesn’t much resemble the bird it claims to be, but it is a mild yellow lump in a bird-like shape that would mostly satisfy any child’s non-critical eye. 

It isn’t as tasty as he might have hoped. It’s if he’s biting into fluffy sugar. After a childhood of limited sweets and a dentist pleased to see so few cavities in a kid’s mouth, Ignis finds it a bit repulsive not to have some fruity or cake-like flavor accompanying it. It might be more appealing in hot chocolate, but the tea sounds far better after a morning of travel. 

Ignis drinks his tea out of a cup that says “home sweet home” and has flowers stemming out from around the words. The tea is delicious and not too sweet, and he relaxes in his seat next to Victor, who watches in fascination as his chocobo marshmallows melt to froth at the top of his hot chocolate.

“Goodbye, chocomallows,” says Victor solemnly before he takes his first sip. Within seconds, his tone changes. “Yum!” He makes a show of patting his belly before he peeks over at what Ignis is drinking. “Are you sick?”

“No, I just like the taste,” says Ignis.

“Daddy makes that for me when I’m sick. But when he’s sick, he won’t let me make it for him.”

“I won’t let him put the kettle on for me,” explains Noctis. “He’s only allowed to help with cooking and drinks under supervision. Anyway, let’s not talk about when we’re sick, right? It’s no fun.”

Victor nods, nose crinkled. “Yeah.” 

He wriggles around in his seat and hums while Ignis talks to Noctis about the various activities they can do in Galdin. They plan for a dinner at the resort that evening with Victor and spend the evening sitting outside the RV—much like they did that night in Hammerhead, so they can keep an eye on Victor while he sleeps. 

“Do you want to try fishing tomorrow?” asks Noctis. “I’ve got a spare rod, if you want.” 

“Fishing!” Victor cheers, setting down his empty cup. He dives beneath the table and bumps against their legs as he worms his way out to the other side. “Can we go swimming, too?”

Noctis glances at Ignis with uncertainty. “I mean, if Ignis wants to…”

“I’d like to go swimming,” says Ignis. “Fishing might be fun, too.”

Ignis can already see that their evening and the following day will be filled with exploration and adventure. He’ll also be spending the entire time with Noctis and Victor, which means they might be due for breaks from one another. Not that Ignis necessarily wants it, but having a stranger sleeping on the bottom bunk—which doesn’t seem to be the most comfortable option when there will be full-sized beds at the hotel nearby—might be upsetting to the child’s schedule. Even if Victor often travels around with his father from place to place, where each day is already unpredictable as it is.

“I think I’ll check out a room, Noct,” says Ignis, as soon as Victor is out of earshot. He explains his reasoning as quickly as he can.

“Yeah, that’s a really good idea, actually. I didn’t think about that. He seems to really like having you around, but it might be good for all of us to have some time away in-between.”

“Not that I won’t miss you,” teases Ignis, remembering their conversation from when they first arrived. “But this will make our time together all the more precious.”

Noctis laughs. “Is that how you see it? If I’m having a good time, I don’t always have the best impulse control. Used to drive my dad nuts how long I’d play games or stay out fishing.”

“It seems you have some now that you have a son to take care of.”

“Oh yeah, for his sake, I gotta keep my act together, and there’s no fishing all day when your kid’s restless after an hour and tugging your shirt sleeves off, screeching that he’s bored.”

Ignis can just imagine the scene and chuckles. He’s quite fond of this little pair and watching Noctis interact with his son. It speaks to his own longing to be a husband and parent, with a happy child and a much simpler life schedule. Even if he was good at what he did at work, it never made him feel like he does now. The rush kept him on his toes but spent his years, one after the other, for far too many hours a day than one could handle for a lifetime. What Noctis offers is laughter and love. It’ll be a while before Ignis decides if this is the best he’ll ever feel, spending this time with Noctis and Victor, or if it’s just the beginning of something wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've got some new cavities from writing this chapter. Whoops.


	5. Chapter 5

Something always calls Noctis back to the ocean. It is more than his hobby of fishing. It’s the peace in his heart when he sees the ocean reflecting the stars and feels the coastal breeze against his cheeks. There are memories of Noctis sitting with Ana on the docks in Altissia, the scent of flowers heavy in the air. Times when his nanny would take him to the beach as a little boy, and he would gather seashells in his arms and sand in his pants and sandals, and bring them all back to show his father. 

But this trip to Galdin has been the most special of all. The night before, he sat with Ignis in front of the RV, a sleeping Victor cradled on his lap, and they chatted about everything and anything while they watched the resort lights dance across the rippling waters. 

Now they’re lined up on a pier, Ignis and Noctis each with a fishing rod, and Victor with an identification book that lists all plants and wildlife in Lucis. The purchase was a last-minute decision of Noctis’, and it has been worth it to listen to Victor identify every fish he sees beneath the surface or that jumps out of the water. It occupies him for a time. Victor is like any child in that he fixates on his favorite activities and has no interest in sitting still for anyone else’s. 

“Daddy, I wanna look at shells,” says Victor as the impatience begins to set in. 

“Soon,” Noctis promises. 

Victor has endured longer than Noctis expected. It takes almost twenty minutes to pack away all the fishing gear and haul it back to their trailer. Victor helps carry the empty bucket that might have held their fill of dinner if Ignis hadn’t been new to fishing and an excited child hadn’t been running back and forth on the dock, scaring away anything they were trying to catch.

“Are we gonna put stuff in my book, Daddy?” asks Victor, holding the handle of the bucket up under his chin.

“We sure are.” Noctis turns to Ignis. “I hope you don’t mind if we take some time out to fill Victor’s discovery book. It can take a while.”

“I love spending time with both of you, whatever you do,” says Ignis. “A discovery book sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, Victor documents wildlife he spots, and we take time to learn about each one. And…” This is the part that embarrasses Noctis the most. “I sketch out pictures for it.”

“Oh, do you draw?”

“Not…a lot? Mainly for the book.” Noctis has always enjoyed drawing—not enough to go to school for it, but enough that he can convincingly draw barnacles and basic fish. Realistic animals and plants are more his thing, and he can’t do scenery because he’s never been fantastic at putting it all together into one picture. 

Noctis is convinced he must be boring Ignis, but to his delight, that is far from the case. Ignis takes an invested role in helping Victor find the seashells and other various lifeforms he seeks on the beach, even picking up a crab like a sandwich for them all to get a closer look. There are definitely antics in-between the educational part of their day. More than once, Victor shoves his new book into Noctis’ arms and stomps into the water, hoping to find more crabs and coral but splashing around more instead. They do manage to take dozens of reference pictures on Noctis’ phone of every item Victor considers worthy of his book.

They finally return to the resort and find a table while Coctura whips them up lunch. A corner of the table is designated to working on the discovery book. Noctis feels more than a little self-conscious to be sketching in front of Ignis. He pulls his sketchpad out of a backpack and taps the eraser-end of his pencil against the paper. 

“Daddy, draw this one.” Victor leans in, elbows on table, and holds up Noctis’ camera. The screen shows them one of the many sand dollars found on the beach. In this case, it’s a rare one, because it is still alive. Noctis carried it back out to the ocean after they took a few pictures.

“All right, I’ll see what I can do.” 

He scratches a few lines down, but hesitates several times, and he can feel two sets of eyes on him.

“It’s not gonna be good,” he mutters. 

“I like your drawings.”

“Thanks, Vicky.” 

“And I’m gonna get them all in my book!” Victor sounds so proud that Noctis can’t help but smile. Maybe he’s not considered cool, but being ‘Daddy’ makes him special in his own way.

“Victor?” Ignis says the name softly, but it’s enough that it grabs the boy’s attention. “Why not show me everything you’ve already added to your discovery book while your father draws?”

Noctis mouths a quick “thank you” and gets a nod in response. “It’s in my backpack.”

Once Victor has the book in hand, he travels around to the other side of the table and sits by Ignis while they flip through it. Not having an audience anymore, Noctis sets to work on the next sketches they’ll glue into the book. There are photographs and little souvenirs, too, like postcards and stickers. In a way, it’s a bit like the life of Victor, all documented for him to flip through when he’s older. 

Ignis asks Victor questions and listens to his stories, and it becomes clear that while he may have meant the distraction as a mercy, he’s invested in learning about the book and the adventures recorded within it. Most of it has to do with animals, but there are a few cool fishing trips and some other antics that have made their way in. 

Noctis is proud of every page, even if the earlier ones aren’t as neat or the drawings have gotten better with time and practice. He has fun with the sand dollar, too, sketching out its bristly form. Maybe he’ll even use a bit of colored pencil to make it purplish, and draw its sun-bleached skeleton on the same page for comparison. 

“Your drawings are amazing, Noctis,” says Ignis, not glancing up as he turns page after page. “I would think these illustrations were in a published book.”

“Isn’t Daddy good?” Victor says it a little too loudly, drawing some looks from other tourists. If Noctis was embarrassed before, he’s even worse now with more curious eyes on him.

“I do have some published illustrations,” admits Noctis. “I do commissions for extra money. Any job that doesn’t require a babysitter works for me.”

It sounds dismissive, and it isn’t like Noctis is ashamed of his skills. He’s worked far too hard on them, even if over the years, it may have seemed effortless to others. Maybe he’s no good at drawing backgrounds and only so-so at people, but all this time of getting every detail right for his son’s discovery book added up as valuable practice. 

“There!” Noctis finishes the last touch and adds his signature beneath the sand dollar. He flips around his notebook and slides it across the table, just as Coctura arrives with their lunch. 

“It’s amazing, Daddy!” Victor grins at his father, but his attention is immediately pulled away by his appetite. He hands Noctis the discovery book, and they pack everything away as Coctura passes out their dishes.

“Thanks,” says Noctis.

“Hey, Noctis, can you help out tomorrow?” asks Coctura after she finishes delivering their food. “We’re kind of short on staff. Sorry about the wait today.”

“Sure. Guess that explains why you brought the food out to us and not one of your waiters.”

Coctura nods, and Noctis can tell she’s worn out from balancing too much at once. 

“What time?” 

“Lunch, mostly—eleven to two.”

Noctis glances past her at the other patrons. He only counts two servers. “What about now?”

“I’ll manage. It’s late enough.” It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself. 

“I could help with the cooking for a little bit,” says Ignis. 

Coctura’s eyes widen. “Oh, really? I’m the only cook here right now—one of my chefs got a nasty burn earlier and had to be driven to a clinic by one of my other servers, and I’ve got another server who quit on me earlier. I can pay you if you help me for just an hour, but you should eat first.”

Ignis turns back to Noctis. “Is that all right with you?”

Noctis is a little bummed that he can’t spend more time with Ignis after lunch, but it’s only an hour—give or take some time. Besides, he’d feel even worse to see Coctura trying to handle everything herself.

“Sure, we can meet up with you later. It’ll be easy to find us.”

Coctura’s stance relaxes, though not before she quickly thanks Ignis and runs off to continue her stressful duties. 

They don’t have much time to talk while eating. Ignis eats a few things off his plate and offers his fruit bowl to Victor before he meets up with Coctura in the kitchens. Now Noctis is curious how well Ignis can cook, and it only bothers him that he’s had lunch already so that he’s unable to find out.

~*~ 

Noctis has a feeling Ignis is going to be needed for more than an hour and isn’t surprised to receive a text that Ignis is going to be there a little longer, cooking into dinner. Ignis tells him to meet back up at the resort around dinnertime, which Noctis hopes means they’ll get a taste of his cooking.

Noctis managed to con his son into a nap afterl unch, mostly for the sake of taking one of his own. While Victor has long decided he’s outgrown naps, reading a story to him while playing soft music tends to lull the kid to sleep—especially on a full stomach. It only takes forty minutes for Victor to be back on his feet, though, and he’s ready for time at the beach.

“Sure, change into your swimsuit and find your floaties.”

Like the nap, however, swimming is not long-lived. Most days, it’s one of the few activities Victor could spend hours on and even fusses if he has to quit. But after splashing around with Noctis in the resort’s pool, he keeps stepping out to look around the area.

“What’s the matter, buddy?” asks Noctis when Victor returns to the side of the pool.

“Where’s Ignis?”

“He’s still working. Coctura needed more help than she thought.”

“I wanted to go swimming with him…” The tiredness and disappointment seep into Victor’s voice. Poor kid. He feels just like Noctis about wanting to spend time with Ignis. And Noctis can always relate to the tired part. 

“Me, too. Why don’t we go sit on the docks for a bit?” There’s almost no one out there from what Noctis can tell, and the pool is too crowded for a kid this overwhelmed. 

Victor nods and clings to his father’s side, fingers curling into the bottom of Noctis’ swimming trunks as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated. 

“Need me to carry you?” whispers Noctis.

Another nod. Noctis lifts the child into his arms, forever marveling at how much heavier he is each time. It makes it easier to weave through the people and get somewhere quieter. Once they’re away, Victor pushes a little against Noctis, indicating that he wants down. They make their way out to the docks, their flip-flops slapping against each wooden beam. The afternoon has gotten cloudier, and in the distance, there’s a clear sign of a storm approaching. That is not favorable, but they have a little time before they need to worry about seeking any shelter.

“What’s up, Vicky?” asks Noctis, stroking his son’s hair out of his face.

Victor glances back at the main part of the resort. “I wanna hang out with Ignis.”

“I know. Me, too.” Now seems the best time to explain to his son what his relationship with Ignis is, but he’s never had to explain that he’s dating anyone before. What if this is a disaster? “I like him a lot, and I’m really glad you do, too. He’s my boyfriend now.”

“I know. You kissed.”

Noctis blushes. “Yeah, we did.”

“Can he be my daddy, too?” asks Victor.

Two things about the statement make Noctis laugh. First, it catches him entirely by surprise. Secondly, if he’s worried that _he’s_ been the one rushing things along… 

Victor puffs out his cheeks in frustration, and Noctis has to quickly do some damage control before his son gets the wrong impression.

“That was unexpected, but it makes me happy to hear you say that,” says Noctis. “Do you want a second daddy?”

“Just want Ignis to stay with us,” mumbles Victor sulkily. 

“That’s up to Ignis, but I hope that’s what he wants, too. But you know he’s just working a shift right now, don’t you? We’ll see him at dinner. He’s not going anywhere yet.”

“But what about when he does? He did before.”

Why do kids always pose the hardest questions of all? 

“Vicky, he has things he wants to do, but I think he’ll come back even if he does go away for a little bit again.”

Instead of answering, Victor yawns, which is one of the other big reasons for his sudden mood. Not that Noctis could convince him to take another nap, especially after he’s already been tricked into one once. 

The storm is going to chase them from the outdoors, however—the first few droplets patter against the wood of the dock. 

“Let’s go home for now,” says Noctis, unfolding his towel and holding it widely above both their heads. It isn’t as if they’re not already both soaked from swimming, but Victor makes a game of trying to stay beneath its shelter as they rush their way across the parking lot to their RV. 

~*~

To Noctis’ delight, Ignis does indeed cook for them. The food is ready and prepared shortly before they arrive, and they sit at one of the more secluded tables—courtesy of Coctura. The rain outside has lightened to a steady drizzle. Victor seems in slightly better spirits upon seeing Ignis again, and his mood improves drastically when they sit down to eat together. 

They dine on grilled fish and risotto, and dessert is cheesecake. All of it is not only presented beautifully, but it is tasty as well.

“Where’d you learn to cook? Were you a chef?” asks Noctis, and he knows he’s prodding a bit. He can’t help but be more curious about Ignis now that they’ve known each other for more than a single morning. All those boundaries and restrictions seem to no longer matter. Did his chat with Victor give him newfound courage?

“No, but I’ve practiced in case I ever need to impress someone I like. Did it work?”

“Like a charm.” Noctis nods over at Victor, who is starting to fall asleep at his chair, head resting against Ignis’ side. His son insisted on sitting next to Ignis during their meal. “On both of us.”

“Good. It seems my practice has been worth it. I’ve always wanted to have someone to cook for.”

“I’ve always wanted someone to cook for me.” Noctis is embarrassed to admit all the corners he cuts in preparing his son’s food. They eat a lot of sandwiches and packaged meals, and if something has premade ingredients, Noctis is all too happy to throw it into the pot rather than do all the chopping and seasoning on his own. 

“Seems Victor enjoyed his as well…” Ignis eyes their plates. “But neither of you ate your vegetables.”

The asparagus served with the risotto has been rolled over to the side on both plates, and Ignis was the only one who touched their appetizer salad.

“Um, yeah. We don’t like ‘em. It’s not like I can force him to eat them when I won’t touch them, either…” Noctis nods over at his sleeping son. “We can both eat them if they’re covered in cheese or something and there aren’t too many, so I try to slip some peas or cauliflower into our meals.”

“There are ways to make them taste more appealing—even if it means only tolerating them.” Ignis chuckles. “It’ll be a challenge seeing what I can get you both to eat.”

“Good luck. My dad says I’ve always been stubborn about veggies. None of my nannies ever managed to persuade me.”

“You had nannies?”

“Yeah, um, my mom died when I was a baby, and my dad was always working.” He hesitates for only a second. If he wants Ignis to open up, he needs to as well. “My dad is a businessman, and it was expected that I’d follow in his footsteps. In fact…” Noctis takes up his fork, even though he’s been done eating for a while, and taps the tines lightly against a napkin. “When I called him, I mentioned you, and he said you sounded familiar.”

“If your father works in business, it’s likely he knows who I am,” says Ignis. “But I’m surprised our backgrounds are similar.”

Ignis begins explaining the company he worked for and what he used to do, and it becomes clear that he has to be the same man Regis mentioned. That includes all the business gatherings, seminars, and dinners. 

“And then I got sick of all of it,” says Ignis, and he spills all the details of why he left Insomnia on a motorcycle. It’s eerie how similar to Noctis’ own story it sounds, even if they had different reasons for their unhappiness. 

“I guess we both rejected the corporate world,” says Noctis softly when Ignis finishes. “I did something similar. My dad had everything set up for me, but I bailed when I was younger, fresh out of college. I met Ana in Altissia, eloped, and we traveled around the world for years.”

“Everywhere?”

“Everywhere. When she got pregnant, we went back to Altissia for a while. It’s one of our favorite places, and her only living relative—an aunt—let us stay at her house. That’s why I’m familiar with the flowers and seafood in Altissia. We spent a lot of time there, and I even took on a solid job at one of the fisheries for a while. Once Victor was old enough, we came back to Lucis.” The next part of the story is painful. It isn’t easy to talk about how Ana died or how it felt for him. “Victor was still pretty little when she passed away. Ever since then, it’s just been the two of us. I thought it’d stay that way. Not because I wanted it to, but…” He hesitates, but Ignis only gazes at him with understanding and patience. “I didn’t think it’d be easy. I’m pretty picky, since I don’t want Victor to end up with a crappy step-parent. Damn, that sounds really silly, now that I say it out loud.”

“Your child’s welfare is not a silly matter.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like my life’s a fairy tale and Victor’s going to get locked in a basement, forced to peel potatoes for all eternity.” Noctis laughs nervously. “The thing is, Victor really likes you. Do you know how bummed out he was today when we left you here? Even swimming couldn’t cheer him up.”

Ignis glances at the boy curled against his side, eyes widening. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, we had a chat about you. He asked if you could be his other daddy, and when I pursued it, it turned out he’s not really looking for another parent. He just likes you enough to create a new job slot for it.”

When there’s silence for a few minutes, Noctis wishes he hadn’t told Ignis all that. What if it seems like he’s using his kid to pressure Ignis into liking him even more? And it’s clear from his partner’s face that this news comes as a bit of a shock to him.

“I’m not telling you to rush anything,” adds Noctis after a while. “I’m just saying he approves of us, which means I can keep dating you—if that’s what you want.”

“That’s exactly what I want. I want to get to know both of you.” 

The words relieve Noctis. It isn’t just the fear of a wicked step-parent that concerns him; he’s equally afraid of someone who overlooks his son and treats him with indifference. That would hurt Victor in a different way. 

“We’ll have to make sure to listen to his feelings each step of the way.” Ignis tentatively reaches down and brushes some of Victor’s bangs out of his eyes. “Though it surprises me how fast he’s warmed to me.”

“He thought you were cool, back in Hammerhead. He says I’m not cool, so I was a bit jealous, but I guess he considers daddies a grade above.” Which makes Noctis feel unreasonably smug, which he attempts to mask, but his expression gives him away.

“We’ll get you a mug that says you’re the world’s coolest dad, and then he’ll have to learn you can be both.” 

Noctis likes that idea a little too much, and blushes. “That’s so cheesy.”

“Noted.” There’s a playful hum to Ignis’ voice. “Anyway, I had best clear these dishes. I don’t want to trouble Coctura with the cleanup, so I promised to wash them. Could you…?” He nods down at the little boy, who is almost half-on his lap from burrowing closer.

“Ah, sure, I’d better get him to bed.” Noctis makes his way to the other side of the table and lifts his son up into his arms. Ignis stands up to face him, and for a minute, they stare at each other for a long minute before leaning in for a goodnight kiss. It’s a shame to part, Noctis thinks, but at least he has the lingering feeling of Ignis’ lips against his and the fluttering in his chest to remember that they’ve had a great day together. And tomorrow is going to be the start of another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lately, I've had this family unit on the brain non-stop. As a result, I've managed to write a lot of this for Camp NaNo, and I already have ch 6 written (not edited), and...4 more planned after that. :D
> 
> I'm feeling pretty confident it won't grow any bigger than that, but...well, we'll see.


	6. Chapter 6

“Ignis!” Victor notices Ignis approaching the RV first and shoots across the parking lot. He tosses his arms around Ignis’ waist with an impact that hits Ignis right in the gut. The door of the RV slams loudly behind him.

“Good morning, Victor,” says Ignis, wrapping one arm around Victor’s shoulders. “Did you have a good breakfast?”

“Yeah, Daddy made me peach oatmeal!”

Noctis pokes his head out the door. “Victor, we have to do your homewo—Oh! Hey there, Ignis. Sorry, I didn’t see you coming.” He yawns and holds the door open. “Come on in. We’re doing his homework for a bit, and then we’ll play on the beach before my shift. Want to join us?”

“I’d love to,” says Ignis honestly, stepping into the RV. Victor settles down at the table with his work books.

Noctis passes out glasses of ice water before they all gather at the table. The windows are closed and the AC unit blasts at them from above the front doorway. Victor is energetic, having apparently had a good night’s sleep after crashing at the restaurant. They spend over an hour helping Victor fill a couple of worksheets. After that, Noctis packs a tote bag of toys, snacks, and books for Victor and announces they’re going to spend a little time on the beach.

“I’m trying to wear him out before he has to sit at a table for a few hours and wait on me to finish my shift,” Noctis admits as Victor races along the beach with a couple of other children. They sit near the parents of the other kids, under the sheltering shade of an umbrella. “I bought him a coloring book, but he’s nearly filled it.”

“What if I watch him?” asks Ignis. “We can walk around the resort a bit—if that’s all right with you.”

Noctis tilts his head. “Would you be cool with that? It’d help us out a lot.”

“Yes. Maybe Victor can accompany me on my search for a local artisan to turn my seashell into a necklace? I thought I’d check out the nearby gift shop first.”

“Oh, right, you wanted to do that!”

“I’ll need to retrieve the shell from my room.” It sits on the nightstand as if a goodnight charm to help Ignis sleep. Every night has been restful, but maybe seeing Noctis and Victor is the reason why he’s been so content when he nods off.

“We’ll do that in a little bit.” Noctis checks his phone for the time. “I can’t believe it’s already ten. I hope he won’t be too disappointed, it looks like he’s having fun.” 

Victor does appear to be having a blast with the other children. They play racing games along the beach and build a sandcastle, and Ignis feels awful when Noctis calls him away as his shift nears. Victor sulks, puppy eyes at the ready. 

“I wanna play longer,” he says.

Noctis gets down to eye level, grinning conspiratorially at his son. “What if I told you you’re spending my shift with Ignis?”

Victor’s eyes widen, and he turns to Ignis for confirmation. When he receives a nod, his expression brightens, banishing any thoughts of pitching an argument. It isn’t entirely clear what part he loves more—hanging out with Ignis or not having to sit in the restaurant and keep himself occupied with books and quiet games. 

Victor snags Ignis’ wrist and skips alongside both men on the way to the resort. The sun is bright again, and he keeps his free hand over his eyes like a visor. 

“Which room is yours?” asks Noctis, glancing down the breezeway that leads to the hotel rooms.

“Seven.” 

When they arrive at his room, Ignis lets them inside. The shell is right where he left it, but he’s relieved that housekeeping hasn’t swept it away by accident. 

“It’s so pretty,” says Victor upon seeing it again. 

“Thank you for finding it. You have a great eye for quality.” Ignis wraps it up carefully in a square of cloth used to clean his glasses and rests it in his breast pocket. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like as a necklace.” 

“Me, too!”

“Guess I’ll leave you both to it,” says Noctis. He leans in and kisses Ignis, looping the strap of Victor’s tote bag over Ignis’ shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything. I won’t be far away, and I’ll have my cell phone on me if anything happens.” 

“Of course.”

Noctis kneels down to eye level and gestures for him to come in for a hug. “Hey, buddy, be good for Ignis, all right?”

“I’m always good.”

Noctis squeezes around Victor playfully and pretends to wrestle him. “You know what I mean! No wandering off, no going into the water, and no whining. I know it’s not easy when Daddy’s gotta work, and you put up with so much from me.” He ruffles his son’s hair before letting go of him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more!” 

“Are you sure about that?”

Victor screeches in delight as Noctis tugs him back into his hold and showers his cheeks with kisses. 

“All right, buddy, have fun!” Noctis straightens up and faces Ignis. “Thank you for doing this. Don’t be afraid to call me for anything. Oh, and before I forget…” Noctis reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small pouch. “There’s some gil in there. He loves those little coin machines with toys and trinkets, just don’t let him more than one piece of candy.”

Ignis takes the pouch. “Thank you, that’ll help pass our free time.”

He doesn’t want to admit that he’s a bit nervous about caring for Victor on his own. It’s a necessity. Children are active, and sitting alone at a table for a few hours seems like an unintentional punishment. This will make it far easier for Victor to expend his energy in a positive way. 

For more selfish reasons, Ignis isn’t thrilled to see Noctis leave for the restaurant. With Victor’s hand in his, he makes his way to the gift shop near the parking lot. Victor is immediately distracted by a cat who sits on the wooden slats of a seat inside. 

“Daddy loves cats,” says Victor. “But he won’t let us have one.”

“It would be very hard to take care of a cat in an RV,” says Ignis. 

“That’s what Daddy says!” 

“Does your father like animals a lot?”

“Yeah! Daddy loves cats best, but he gets really happy when he gets to pet dogs.” Victor holds out his hand to the cat carefully, as if taught long ago that he can’t just reach out and touch a strange animal. The cat sniffs carefully before rubbing its chin against Victor’s fingers. “Ahhh, good kitty!”

Someone lifts their head up from behind the counter suddenly, arms full of packing boxes that look quite heavy. He slides them down next to the register before waving at them.

“Hey, welcome. Anything I can help you with?” The man’s accent suggests he’s a local of the Galdin area, if not a little further north on the east coast. His hair is dyed silver, though it’s a convincing job that’s only given away by his reddish-brown eyebrows. His nametag reads “Dino”.

“I was hoping you might know someone who could turn a seashell into a necklace.”

“Then I’m your guy!” Dino holds up a wrist to show off an intricate metal band that forms around several precious stones. “I made this and most of the jewelry you see in this shop.”

Ignis notices the display cases nearby. As he bends over to get a look, he says, “What’s your fee?”

“Depends on what you want the shell on and how you want it attached.”

“I think a nylon or cotton cord would be best suited for it.”

“That’s not too expensive, then. I could do it for fifteen hundred gil to drill the hole and put it on a cord for you with a couple of jump hoops.”

That’s a reasonable price, and Ignis nods and withdraws the shell from his pocket. The cat has since abandoned Victor, who now wanders over and sticks his chin over the countertop to watch the exchange. 

“I picked it out!” says Victor proudly.

“Yes, please be careful with it. It’s very important to me.”

“I’m always careful,” says Dino, winking down at Victor. “Is this for the kid or you? If it’s for him, the cord’s a little cheaper.”

“It’s for me.” 

The words have an effect on Victor, who stares up at Ignis. “Kids can have them, too?”

“Got any money, kiddo?” asks Dino, examining the shell up to a light before letting out a little whistle.

Victor’s joy vanishes, his face crumpling up like a paper bag. “Oh.” He blows a raspberry and sets his chin on the counter, fingers curled around the edges on either side. 

Seeing him down like that, Ignis can’t help but wonder if Victor would willingly pick out another shell. Two, actually—one as a surprise gift for Noctis when they meet up with him again. Ignis expected the necklace to be pricier than it is, although he plans to tip the artisan for his work on top of the base price. 

“How long will it take to make it?”

Dino shrugs. “About twenty minutes, depending on how many customers I get in. It’s pretty quiet right now. But I can guarantee it’ll be done within an hour.”

“Would you be willing to make three of them, if we found two more shells?” asks Ignis.

“I don’t turn down the opportunity to make more jewelry. It’s the best part of this job.” Dino grins and sets the shell down next to some tools on a workbench behind the counter.

“All right, I’m going to order three, and we’ll be back soon with two more shells.” Ignis withdraws his wallet. “One will be for a child, the second for another adult.”

He pays Dino the base price and tips twenty percent, confident in the jeweler’s skills based on the work he has on display around the shop. 

Victor perks up as he’s led back outside.

“You don’t mind finding two more shells, do you?” asks Ignis.

Victor shakes his head. “Is one of the necklaces for me?”

“Yes, and the other is for your daddy. We’re going to surprise him with it, so if we see him before we can give it to him, don’t tell him about it. It’ll be out secret.” Ignis presses a finger to his lips, and Victor imitates the gesture with a nod. 

It takes the greater part of an hour to search the entire beachside for the perfect necklace pieces. Victor tosses aside shell after shell, keeping a couple of them he likes on hand but eventually switching them out for better ones along his way. Ignis lets him take the lead on the hunt. 

“Got ‘em!” Victor holds up two in front of his face, just inches from his eyes, so that from Ignis’ perspective, they’ve been replaced by seashells. 

“Those are gorgeous! Which one will be yours, and which one is for your daddy?”

Both are cockle shells like the one Victor chose for Ignis. The little boy hands Ignis one that’s mainly cream with orange and red stripes. 

“That one is mine!” Victor delivers the second into Ignis’ waiting palm. It’s a little bigger than Victor’s and is primarily a light orange that transitions into purples at the tip. “That’s for Daddy!” 

“Let’s bring them back to Dino,” says Ignis, tucking them carefully in his breast pocket. “You did a marvelous job picking out three shells. Won’t your father be surprised?”

“Yeah! He’s gonna be happy. Thanks for buying us necklaces, Ignis.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

Ignis feels his phone vibrate against his hip and pauses in the parking lot to check it. There’s a message from Noctis. 

_How’s it going?_

“Oh, seems your father thought to check in on us. Maybe he knows we’re talking about him.” Ignis winks at Victor, who giggles. “Let’s send him a message. What should I tell him?”

Victor taps his chin, brows furrowed in feigned concentration. “Tell him we ate all the ice cream!”

“All of it?”

“Mostly strawberry. We didn’t leave any for him.” Victor looks solemn. “He’ll never know we’re gonna surprise him if he thinks about the ice cream. He’ll be sad instead.”

“Will he?” 

“Yeah, ‘cos strawberry’s his favorite! It’s mine, too!”

Ignis chuckles. “Won’t he be upset with me if he thinks I fed you all the strawberry ice cream in Galdin?”

“Galdin Quay,” reminds Victor. After a beat, he changes his mind. “If we tell him that, he might make me brush my teeth.” He scrunches up his nose.

“Why don’t we send him a picture of you instead?”

Victor nods enthusiastically and starts posing before Ignis can open the camera function on his phone. They take a half a dozen snapshots, and Victor picks out the two he likes best before sending them to Noctis, alongside the message: _We’re having fun._

Noctis’ reply is nothing more than a beaming emoji, and Ignis is sure they’ve given him some peace of mind for a little while. Dropping in once or twice will also help, as long as they can still keep their little secret about the necklace. Until then, they have gil to spend on toy machines and a tote bag full of activities to help pass the time.

~*~

Ignis and Victor sport their new seashell necklaces around their necks, and in Victor’s little hands, he holds a giftbox destined for Noctis. Every bit of self-discipline the child has goes into steading his steps and keeping a lid on his excitement, which seems almost seconds from bursting. Crossing the water to the resort seems a perilous journey for Victor. 

“Can’t drop it,” mumbles Victor.

“We’ll go slow,” promises Ignis, who suspects Noctis will forgive them for being late if he can see that they’re making their way to the resort. 

When they reach the restaurant, however, Noctis has just finished his shift and is balancing a tray of dirty dishes before disappearing into the kitchen. There’s a seating area nearby, and Ignis leads Victor over to wait. It takes several minutes before Noctis returns. He only nods at them as he passes before meeting up with Coctura. There’s some discussion—presumably about payment—and a few papers are exchanged before Noctis finally makes his way over.

Noctis pauses a few feet away, studying Victor’s face with an amused twinkle in his eye. “You’re up to something.”

Victor grins, and even Ignis chuckles, which draws Noctis’ attention.

“And you’re in on it,” Noctis concludes.

“If you must know, we’ve been eating all the strawberry ice cream in the world so that there is none left for you,” says Ignis, and Victor starts squealing with laughter from his chair.

“I leave you alone for a few hours, and you’ve already got an inside joke?” Noctis feigns a hurt expression, hand over heart. “I missed out on all the fun, didn’t I?”

“We had a good day, but we’ll let you in on it.” Ignis pinches the seashell around his neck carefully, holding it up for inspection. “We succeeded in our mission.”

“That looks great!” 

“I got one, too,” says Victor, holding up his as well, allowing one of his hands to leave the box he holds dearly in his lap. His legs swing back and forth. 

“Oh, Ignis, you didn’t have to do that, I hope he didn’t—” 

“It was my idea. Victor, why don’t you show him what else you’ve got?” Ignis meets Victor’s gaze and nods in Noctis’ direction with an encouraging smile.

Victor hurries over, holding the box up as high as he can to his father with both hands, lifting up on his tiptoes for added height.

“Ah, what?” Noctis takes it, already grinning ear to ear. He lifts the lid and gasps. “You guys!” 

“I picked out the shell!” 

“All three of them,” adds Ignis. “I’d say he made splendid choices, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, these are great!” Noctis kneels down and scoops his kid in his arms, the necklace dangling from his fingertips in one hand and the box and its lid in the other. Victor receives a shower of kisses, which makes him giggle and tell his father to stop—when it’s clear by his tone he only wants his father to continue. “Here, put it on me, Vicky.”

Noctis lifts his chin and holds still while Victor puts the necklace over his head. His fingers have a bit of trouble adjusting the new cotton cord, which is a little stiff from the wax. Luckily, Ignis is able to step in when asked for help. 

“I think we should get a picture together, now that we match,” says Ignis, pulling out his phone. 

They recruit a few minutes of Coctura’s time so that they have someone to snap the photo for them, and the three of them scrunch up like sardines on one of the benches with their necklaces held out. After a dozen or so pictures, Coctura rushes back to her work. Ignis flips through them with the other two, finding a favorite to use as his phone’s background. 

“Make sure to send them to me,” says Noctis, and when he receives them, he browses them once again, a fond look in his eyes. 

That’s the moment when Ignis realizes what he left Insomnia for wasn’t very far away. He just had to go looking for it, and he wants to stay with them for as long as they’ll have him.


	7. Chapter 7

Noctis is cutting watermelon when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Not knowing whether it might be related to a job, he gestures for Victor to pull it out and put it on speaker for him because his hands are covered in fruit juice, and Ignis is over at the grill, taking care of the meaty portion of their meal.

“Hello?”

“Noctis, how are you?” It’s Regis.

“Oh, hey Dad. I’m good. A little busy, maybe I can call you—”

“Grandpa!” Victor begins rambling excitedly about his necklace, swimming at the pool, and how much he learned from the massage therapist (including an offer to rub Regis’ back for him).

Victor walks around the RV a few times during his chat, and Noctis only catches bits at a time. Each time his son passes, he attempts to summon him back over to return the phone. No luck. Victor is engrossed in conversation with his grandfather, and Regis sounds like he’s enjoying their conversation. The battery will be down low before Noctis ever has a chance to find out why his father called.

Noctis finishes chopping up the watermelon, cantaloupe, and other fruit into chunks and mixing it into their salad with fruit juice. After he washes his hands, he leans against a table and waits for his son to make another round. As soon as he does, he pounces on him, tickling his ribcage as he works the phone out of his hands.

“Hello, Grandpa,” says Noctis. “Your grandson is busy now, he’s got to wash up for dinner.”

Victor groans, and Noctis nods towards the door of the RV. 

“Don’t cheat and run the water. Use soap!” 

As Victor trudges up the stairs, groaning, Regis laughs over the speaker. “I think I remember another little boy doing that.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s either that, or Vicky lathers up so much he blows bubbles everywhere. I think I did that, too.” Noctis plops in a lawn chair near Ignis. “Something up?”

“Just checking in. I was hoping we could talk about you visiting Insomnia.”

“Oh, right.” Noctis has been so fixated on spending time with Ignis that he has forgotten to do more than text his dad a few messages and pictures. They still need to have a proper heart-to-heart, in person. 

“I’m taking some time off in a couple of weeks to take care of some minor surgery, and I was wondering if you would visit me then. Is that too soon?”

“I’m used to suddenly changing plans, if I have any at all,” says Noctis. Tomorrow, he’s doing another lunch shift for Coctura before her new hire takes over. He has yet to talk to Ignis about moving on beyond Galdin, but staying at the beach for so long has gotten a bit stale. Every kid Victor hangs out with here is a stranger passing through. At least in other places, Victor has made friends with the local kids, and Noctis wants to stop by somewhere so Victor can spend more time with them.

“Do you have plans?” inquires Regis.

“Not exactly. I thought I might go to Lestallum, but we can do that after Insomnia. I need to figure out how I’m getting in—I don’t want to drive the trailer through the city.” Noctis’ first thought is to ask if he can borrow a vehicle from Cid while the old man babysits the RV in his lot for a week. It’ll mean a lot of work to make up for the favors, though, and Cid won’t be agreeable at first. “I have some time. Dad, would it be all right if I brought a friend?”

Noctis glances over at Ignis, who has turned away from the grill in surprise.

“If he wants,” Noctis amends quickly. “I’ll have to talk it over with him.”

“Oh?” There’s a smug hum in Regis’ answer. “A friend, you say?”

“Boyfriend.”

“Then I must insist you bring him.”

Noctis can’t help but laugh at that. “I’m on speaker. He can hear everything you’re saying.”

“Hello to him! Ignis, correct?”

“Yes, it’s Ignis, Mr. Caelum,” says Ignis in a clear voice, approaching. His hand settles on Noctis’ shoulder like a warm, comforting anchor. A reminder, perhaps, that he’s not going to run away from this commitment? At least, Noctis hopes that’s what it means.

“Regis, if you please. I daresay you sound familiar?”

“Noctis has spoken to me about our similar careers and possible run-ins in the past, and I suppose I should confirm that I’m likely who you think I am.” 

“Ignis is cooking for us,” says Noctis, not wanting to linger on the talk of business. Not when that’s part of why Ignis left Insomnia in the first place. “We’re eating soon. But hey, what’s this about minor surgery?”

“Knee replacement surgery. I’ll be out of commission for six weeks and bored out of my mind by the end of the first day.”

“Don’t worry, Victor will happily keep you company.” Noctis can already see them sitting together on Regis’ bed, plotting antics together. 

“I look forward to it. I’ll text you with my schedule, and you can work in when you want to visit,” says Regis. “Enjoy your dinner, Noctis.”

Noctis is off the phone when Victor returns from washing up, holding out his hands to prove they’re not filthy anymore. The rest of him is, however, but there’s no point in making Victor shower and change his clothes before they’re about to dive into something as messy as barbeque. 

“Did Grandpa go?” asks Victor with a hint of a pout.

“Yeah, we have to eat. Didn’t you talk to him already?”

“Not enough. I didn’t get to tell him about my book!” 

“Got news for you, Vicky,” says Noctis, bending down and grinning at his son. “You get to show it to him soon. We have a few things to do, and then we’re going to Insomnia to visit him!”

Victor’s squeal is ear-piercing, which makes Noctis wince at the same time as he laughs. Two short arms are thrown around his neck, and Victor bounces, shrieking about how he can’t wait to see Regis.

Even if Noctis is nervous about the visit, the joy Victor experiences is infectious, and it’s hard not to be excited with him.

~*~

Noctis has only just shut off the ignition when his son breaks loose of his seat belt and dives out of the car.

“Can I go see Cid?” 

“Yeah, go on,” says Noctis, waving him along. “Don’t cross the parking lot.” 

“I know the rules!” Victor follows the edge of the parking lot to the nearest building and uses the walkways to cut over to the garage. Noctis watches to make sure he’s safe before he turns back to the inside of the truck and begins clearing out the bottles and food packages that are always a result of their road trips. 

With any luck, Victor will butter Cid up before Noctis asks him any big favors. How can Cid ever deny Noctis a thing when one of the cutest kids in the world is sitting on his lap? 

Ignis has already arrived on motorcycle and has parked between the diner and the gas station. The cab of the truck is almost entirely cleared out of road trip garbage by the time Ignis makes his way over to Noctis’ side.

“Hey, you can’t cut across the parking lot,” Noctis teases, attempting to sound stern and failing.

“Oh, of course. I’ll remember that next time.”

“I’d tell you I was joking, but I think Victor sees you as a role model now. You’d better act the part.” Noctis grins, leaning on the door and attempting to look sexy. “Give me a second. I’m almost done cleaning things.”

“Are you cleaning because it’s messy, or because you’re afraid to talk to Cid?”

“Can it be both?”

“You said as soon as he finds out you’re visiting your father, he’ll agree.”

“He will, but that doesn’t mean he won’t yell about it for show first. He likes to bark at people for fun.” Noctis finishes disposing of the last of the trash and slams the door closed. “Victor’s telling him all about his upcoming visit with Dad right now.”

“Oh.” Ignis smiles in a knowing way. “I see your plan.”

“Good one, right?” 

They chuckle and walk together, using the careful route around the parking lot that Noctis makes Victor take, even though the child is nowhere around to notice if his father is breaking one of the strictest rules between them. 

“You set a good example, don’t you?” says Ignis, and Noctis catches the approval in his tone. Their hands find one another as they continue their stroll to the garage.

Cid is sitting just inside, in the shadiest corner, with two fans blowing at him and a cheerful little boy in his lap. As soon as he sees Noctis, he tips his hat with two fingers. 

“Heard you’re visiting Reggie!” 

“Yup,” says Noctis. “We’re leaving in a couple of days. I have a favor to ask you. Three, actually.”

“Yes, you can borrow a car for a week, and yes, I’ll watch yer camper.”

That was awfully easy. Noctis looks at Victor, who beams proudly.

“You already asked him, didn’t you?” Noctis coughs out a surprised laugh.

“Yeah!”

“What’s the third favor?” asks Cid. “You know I’m going to ask you to work until you leave, and I’m not gonna be nice about it.”

“Of course not,” agrees Noctis, making no attempt to disguise that he’s indulging the old man. “I was going to ask if you’d store Ignis’ motorcycle somewhere safe? He’s coming with us.”

“Sure, got plenty of room.” Cid eyes Ignis up and down. “Am I allowed to take her for a spin?”

“He’s kidding,” says Noctis, waving away the question.

“I’m aware.” Ignis smiles wryly and extends a hand out to Cid. “Ignis Scientia.”

Cid stares at the hand before laughing. “Cid Sophiar.”

“He’s Paw-Paw!” insists Victor.

“Yeah, I’m Paw-Paw to the kids—except to this brat.” Cid gestures at Noctis. “He calls me Cid and thinks he can get away with it. Least he could do is be respectful if I’m gonna do him all these favors.”

Noctis rolls his eyes. “He’s kidding, again. He doesn’t care. I told you he likes to bark at everyone for fun.”

“I’ll show you bark,” grumbles Cid. “How soon you leaving to see your daddy?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Good. Rest up now, see me first thing in the morning. I’ve got a ton of parts that need picked up from the warehouse. You can drop them off and start unpacking them. I’ll watch Victor for you.” 

That’s customary work for Cid these days, and it’s more than generous if Cid’s going to watch Victor and give them a car for a week in exchange. 

“Thanks, Cid.”

“I’m just glad yer finally taking my advice. It’s about damn time, too! How do you think he must feel, knowing I spend more time with his grandson than he does?”

That is an awful way to put it. Noctis grimaces. And he probably deserves the chastisement—that’s the worst part. “Yeah, I gotta make it up to him.”

“Damn right yer gonna.” Cid softens before he speaks again. “You can borrow a car from me any time you wanna see him. You know I ain’t gonna mind. Just make sure you unhook it and get it behind the garage, in case someone needs that RV spot and the lines while yer gone.”

“Yeah, no problem.” 

Cid lifts Victor off his lap and stands. “C’mon, Victor, we’re gonna play a board game while yer daddy rests.”

The relief is physical, body-wide. It isn’t often Noctis gets time to himself, which he often uses to catch up on sleep. “Thanks, Cid.”

The old man answers with nothing more than a grunt before guiding Victor over to the shelves where he keeps a variety of battered-up board games that are older than Noctis. 

“Guess we can take a nap if we want,” says Noctis. “If you want a nap, you’re welcome to join me.”

“I’ll stand guard,” says Ignis. “I’m not that tired, but I rode alone and had the wind blowing me awake the entire time.”

“Guarding it is.” Noctis snags Ignis’ hand and pulls him out of the garage, to the trailer. The power and septic still have to be hooked up, but after that, Noctis fully intends to shower and take a nice, long rest for as long as Cid and Victor will allow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest chapter I've written for this particular fic. I wrote this back in April, but I messed up on chapter eight so I didn't bother to post seven... (I still need to fix eight and finish it. Whoops.)
> 
> [Oh, and this is a rough sketch (emphasis on 'rough') of Ignis, Noctis, and Victor together? I imagine this happens while they're in Galdin one evening. Victor nods off, and they stay up and talk in front of the RV...](https://thehostilecredence.tumblr.com/post/184891671111/unfinished-sketch-for-a-fic)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sliiiiiiight warning if you have emetophobia, there's a pretty brief mention of the results of Noctis eating an entire cake as a child in this chapter. I wanted to give a head's up on that!

Ignis likes most of the places he has been to in Lucis so far. The correlation is that his favorite locations are places where he has spent time with Noctis and Victor. Galdin was hard to leave behind. All the memories Ignis made on those sandy beaches and at the resort in only a few days will be carried with him for a lifetime. There are still many places he wants to go, though, including Altissia.

In Hammerhead, Ignis and Noctis sat down to discuss some short-term plans for travel following the trip to Insomnia. They’ll stop by Lestallum to allow Victor some time to visit with his local friends in the city. A woman by the name of Holly often employs Noctis while he’s out there, and the money could easily be used to save for a trip to Altissia. They’ll all go together. It’s not something Ignis wants to do alone. Since Galdin, he’s had no desire to part from the two new loves of his life, and Noctis has expressed an equal wish to remain together.

After Lestallum, Noctis wants to show Ignis more corners of Lucis. Some of them more remote than others. Ignis has never seen the Rock of Ravatogh, and apparently neither has Victor. It’ll be one adventure after another.

First, however, is Insomnia, to visit Noctis’ father. They’re unsure of their length of stay; Noctis suspects they’ll be there at least two weeks. 

Ignis didn’t think he’d return to Insomnia so soon, and within minutes of entering the city, he worries he has dreamed the past few weeks up. Only glancing at Noctis and Victor when he can spare his eyes from the road for a moment does he feel anchored to the new changes within his life. 

“Ah, it’s the next exit,” says Noctis, pointing up ahead on the highway. More instructions follow, until they’ve parked in the circle drive in front of Regis’ house.

“House” might be a rather frugal term for the estate that sits on the edge of city. Its distance and location in a wealthy area allow for a rather pretty yard with gardens, and their borrowed car looks out of place, each dent and scrape likely regarded as an eyesore to the neighbors. 

Noctis lifts a sleeping Victor out of the backseat. The child stirs in his arms, unaware that he’s minutes away from seeing the grandfather he wouldn’t stop talking about all morning. That’s where his energy went—that and pointing out every landmark between Hammerhead and Insomnia. There’s a tote in back that Noctis puts over his shoulders, filled with some of Victor’s toys and books. 

“Dunno if I should wake him,” Noctis admits. “Maybe once we’re inside.”

Ignis carries his bag and wheels Noctis’ suitcase along the stones as they approach the front door. A middle-aged gentleman (whose graying hair is shaved so close to his head he appears bald at first glance) opens the door before they can reach the first stair to the porch. There’s something familiar about him.

“Oh, Clarus. Hey.” Noctis nods at him. The name sounds familiar, too. 

“Welcome home,” says Clarus. His eyes fall to the little boy slumbering in Noctis’ arms. “He looks so much like you did at that age. He’s gotten big since last I saw him.” 

He steps out of the way to allow them through the threshold. As soon as Ignis hefts the suitcase up over the doorway, Clarus takes it from him. 

“It seems you could use a hand.”

“Thank you.” 

“You’re really Ignis Scientia.” Clarus stares a minute and laughs. “I didn’t believe Regis when he first told me you’d be staying with us.”

“I daresay you seem familiar, but I apologize for not remembering you.”

“Clarus Amicitia. I’ve spoken at a few business seminars. Noctis’ father and I were partners, but my son and daughter have since taken my place so I can babysit Regis in my retirement.”

Noctis turns at the base of the stairs and tips his head at Clarus. “I’m sure he’d love hearing you call it that. Where is Dad, anyway?”

“Resting in the solarium and on the cranky side. We just returned from his physical therapy earlier.” Clarus sets the suitcase at the base of the stairs and gestures for Ignis to put his bag down beside it. “We can carry all that up later. Why don’t you go see him? That’ll cheer him up.”

As soon as Clarus’ hands are free, he holds out his arms for Victor, letting out a loud noise of surprise at the weight of the child. Noctis is free to deposit the tote beside the rest of their luggage. 

“Is he really five already? I guess that explains his size.”

“I ought to wake him,” says Noctis.

“If he’s anything like you were as a kid, I’d rather not.” Clarus scowls, though he strokes his fingers through Victor’s hair with practiced tenderness. “You loved to sleep and could do it anywhere. We’d find you behind curtains, under beds, and in the hallway, having crashed in the middle of play.”

“If only Victor slept like that.” Noctis snorts. “He hates naps and will do anything to get out of one.”

This clearly amuses Clarus, if Ignis goes by the glint in his eyes. “That’s how children are. You know, Iris was much the same way, and Gladio had his moments.” He turns to Ignis. “Those are my children, the son and daughter I referred to earlier. Noctis grew up with both of them.”

“Between Clarus and my dad, you’re going to know more about me than you’ll ever want to,” whispers Noctis, though it’s loud, and his eyes are fixed narrowly on Clarus with the full intention of making sure he overhears. “They’ll tell you every brand of baby food I did or didn’t eat, how many times I tossed peas on the floor as a toddler, and just how many vases I broke.”

“Seven, but we managed to salvage one,” says Clarus with a grin. “They were all accidents, I’ve been assured.”

“I didn’t think you were that gullible, Clarus. Remind me who assured you?”

“You did.”

“Definitely lies, then. From _my_ perspective, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to break the vases. That was just an unfortunate side effect of running in the house and throwing toys around where I wasn’t supposed to.”

Ignis can’t help but smile at the exchange. The two are clearly close family in their own right, and distance and time hasn’t changed that relationship much if Ignis were to guess. The conversation slows them down in the hall, and what should be a short trip that lasts only twenty seconds takes about five minutes, from front door all the way to the solarium. 

A man with a lot more hair—just as grayed as Clarus’—looks up from his phone and smiles at them warmly as the enter. He sits beneath the shade of several potted palms, a walker beside his wicker settee. 

“Hey, Dad,” says Noctis. He hovers at Ignis’ side, just as awkward as the day Ignis met him. 

“Welcome home, Noctis. I’m sorry I’m unable to stand to greet you, but I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I know. How are you feeling?”

“Don’t let him start,” cuts in Clarus. “He’ll complain for hours if you let him. I should know—I’m the one who has been listening to it for several days now.”

“Clarus, be quiet and bring my grandson over to me.” With two arms wide open, Regis wiggles his fingers.

“You sure you should hold him?” asks Noctis.

Regis turns sharply to his son, arms still outstretched. “I had knee surgery. My arms and lap are perfectly fine.”

“All right, all right. Here, let me wake him up first.” Noctis scoots forward and intercepts Clarus. “He’s gonna be kind of freaked out if he sees a couple of strangers passing him back and forth.”

This sentence clearly wounds Regis by the way he grimaces, and Ignis notices the way Noctis cringes as the wording sinks in. There’s no way for Ignis to help—this matter is between a family he’s only just getting to know. But he hopes that whatever happened in the past can be faced with civility. The only role Ignis can offer is support, and maybe advice, if Noctis comes for it.

It takes a few minutes of Noctis sitting on a chair across from Regis before Victor is properly awake. There are a few mumbled complaints about how Noctis shouldn’t have let him fall asleep, but soon, Victor sits up and realizes he’s no longer in the car.

“Grandpa?” Victor glances up and sees Clarus, but passes over him, well aware that he’s not the desired person he seeks. As soon as notices Regis, he lets out an excited cry. “Grandpa!”

The child lunges forward, but Noctis is prepared and keeps his hold around the child’s waist.

“Hold on, buddy, remember what I told you about Grandpa’s surgery?” says Noctis calmly, using his free hand to smooth back Victor’s hair. “Be careful of his knees, okay?”

“I know,” says Victor with mild annoyance, trying to exit his father’s lap by slumping down and sliding off of it. Once he is released, he darts around the glass-topped table between their furniture. With one glance to regard Regis’ knees, Victor then steps up to the arm of the chair and leans over it, grinning. “Grandpa, Daddy was supposed to wake me, but he didn’t!”

This is an obvious attempt to tattletale on Noctis, and Ignis smothers a quick laugh behind his fist. Beside him, Clarus makes a similar gesture and fails. 

Regis widens his eyes theatrically. “Yes, I can’t believe he’d let you sleep through this. Did you see the city at all when driving in?”

“No way, and I’ve never been here!”

“We’ll have to make sure you see some of it while you’re here, won’t we? I’ll show you all my favorite spots. We’ll leave your father behind.”

“Yeah, that’ll teach him.” Victor nods sagely, and Ignis has to smother another laugh, because the child seemingly doesn’t understand how much his father craves a good nap and will love the idea of being left behind. One of their mornings in Hammerhead, Ignis was able to wake up early and convince Victor to let Noctis sleep in while he cooked breakfast for them. 

“Good, I can stay in bed all day,” Noctis mutters, but only Ignis and Clarus hear him, and the three exchange grins. 

The other two have long since stopped paying attention to the rest of them. Regis listens attentively to his grandson’s every word. That one child might just be what the family needs to help patch up their past disagreements. It’s clear Regis and Noctis have their differences, but they are also very similar, and the best thing they have in common is their love for Victor. 

“Shall we leave them to it?” asks Clarus, nodding at the door that leads back to the hall. “We can get started on lunch.”

“Sounds like a plan,” says Noctis, glancing back at his father and son fondly. “Guess I’ll have to talk to Dad later, when Victor’s in bed. Still pretty nervous about that.”

Once they’ve reached the kitchens, Clarus turns to Noctis sternly. “Don’t be nervous. Your father is delighted you’re visiting. We all are.” His face softens, and he pats Noctis on the shoulder warmly. “Welcome home.” After a moment, he then turns to Ignis. “And welcome to the family.”

Ignis doesn’t know what to think or say to that, but then he laughs. “Thank you, I hope you’ll have me around for a long time.” 

Noctis slips his arms around Ignis’ middle, leaning his head against his chest. “No, you’re definitely a keeper.” 

Ignis swears he can feel Noctis’ cheek warm even through his shirt, and it matches the heat of his own blush. All Clarus can do is laugh heartily and turn to the fridge, saying something about how the family is growing and how many people are going to want to see Noctis while he’s in town. Ignis looks forward to meeting every single one of the people in Noctis’ life. It makes him happy to know he can finally be a part of something that doesn’t involve numbers and business partners and staying up late for work. There’s a warm feeling in his chest, growing by the day. Finally, he’s among friends and family. He’s never felt more appreciative of his life than in these fleeting moments of simplicity. 

~*~

Victor quiets down after dinner, though he seems to have just as much energy as before. Clarus has since gone home, leaving the four of them alone. All of them agree to go out onto the patio for the evening; Regis has promised Victor a showing of fireflies in the yard—a little treat before bedtime. 

The sun is still out, however, and Victor is sniffing flowers in the garden and chasing down his father to take a picture of every single one for his discovery book to pass time until nightfall. 

This leaves Ignis in a chair beside Regis. At first, they merely watch the pair and laugh as Noctis barely finishes one photo before his son drags him away to another section of the garden.

“Please take care of my son,” says Regis, his eyes fixed on Noctis and Victor. “He’s been through a lot, more than he’s willing to let us in on.” 

“He’s kind and doesn’t want to trouble us,” agrees Ignis. “I can see it in the way he raises Victor, too, how big his heart is.”

“He was always disappointed that I was seldom around when he was little. Noctis tried to hide it, but I knew how he felt—I wanted to spend more time with him, too. Now that he has a child of his own, he wants to make sure Victor never feels what we did. I’m jealous of them both.”

“They’re easy to be jealous of,” says Ignis, aware of his own wish and just how much they’ve fulfilled it by opening their family to him. 

“Quite the adventurous family,” says Regis, laughing again as Victor finds a dandelion puff, blows on it, and the breeze sends the seeds into his face and hair. “I’ve always viewed living on the road as a challenge. I’m far more comfortable in my big house, with everything I would ever want within an hour’s drive from here. Vacations always exhausted me. I’d enjoy the views and then want to come right back home, to my own bed. Clarus tried to take me camping when we were younger, but I’d always pull the car into the nearest hotel. He’d take the children, too, without me. I think that’s where Noctis found his love of fishing.”

“Lucky he can sleep anywhere, be it his own bed or a chair. Heading into the city, Victor wasn’t the only one who nodded off in the car.” Ignis smiles, thinking of how boyish Noctis appeared while dozing in the car, even as the sun highlighted all six or seven of the gray hairs in his rowdy bangs. 

“He could always sleep anywhere.” 

“Clarus did mention something like that earlier.”

“Does he still have nightmares?” asks Regis, clasping his hands in his lap and gazing sadly out into the yard without looking at his son, grandson, or Ignis. “There was a period after Ana’s death where he couldn’t sleep, and he had nightmares when he did.”

It’s at the tip of Ignis’ tongue to ask more about Noctis’ late wife, but that’s not a story for him to hear from Regis. Not when Noctis isn’t quite ready to talk about her. 

When Ignis doesn’t answer, Regis says quickly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.” He turns to Ignis. “Please forget I said anything. Your relationship is quite new—only a few weeks old? You’ve got a lot to learn about him. I should leave the discussions about Ana to Noctis and tell you all my son’s embarrassing childhood moments, correct?”

The old man grins deviously, but it doesn’t disguise the sadness in his eyes.

To alleviate some of the awkwardness Regis must be feeling, Ignis plays along. “I’d quite like to hear everything about his childhood, if it pleases you.”

“Oh, it quite pleases me.” Regis sips on water before he begins. “Noctis used to think fireflies were fallen stars as a child. You should have seen his horrified face the first time he caught one and realized he was holding a bug.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh, yes! Did he tell you about his love of the stars?”

Ignis thinks back to their first date and the fondness he feels for sitting under the night sky, wrapped in cartoon-patterned blankets and drinking wine from collector’s cups. “It’s something we share.”

“During the summer, I’d let him have sleepovers in the solarium, so he could look up at the stars through the glass. Gladio—Clarus’ boy—used to pitch a tent either in my yard or his father’s, and they’d all camp out if Clarus couldn’t take them out of the city. Despite all this, he’d beg me to let him stay up late, and when I wouldn’t allow it, he’d attempt to sneak out. Thought I was too foolish to figure out what he would do, after all his pleading and tears.”

Ignis tries to imagine Noctis as a child. He imagines he must have looked a lot like Victor but with blue eyes. 

“One time he did succeed at slipping out,” says Regis, chuckling. “He fell asleep out here, on one of these chairs.” He pats the armrest of the one he sits in. “I called Clarus in a panic, and we almost contacted the authorities. Clarus found him dozing back here, huddled under a blanket. He caught a cold from that, which I thought was punishment enough.”

Noctis begins making his way across the lawn toward the patio, his phone tucked away. As he’s reaching for the water jug and a fresh glass, he glances between the two of them with suspicion.

“Which childhood story are you telling him, Dad?” Noctis takes a long chug of water, clearly thirsty from being dragged around his father’s yard in the summer heat. 

“The one where even a cold couldn’t stop you from sneaking out to see the stars.”

“Oh. That’s a cute one.”

“Cute? Were you cute?” Regis raises an eyebrow at his son. “You could be quite a handful at times. Remember that time you snuck into the kitchen on your sixth birthday and ate the entire cake?”

“Well, it was _mine_. Don’t look at me like that—that was my logic at the time!”

“Your logic resulted in a stomachache and food-coloring-dyed vomit.”

Noctis scrunches up his nose and turns to Ignis. “I’m sorry, he’ll tell you everything. You’ll know more about me than you will about Victor, and you’re gonna be present as he grows up.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, his cheeks flush pink. “I mean, uh, I hope you will be…”

“Daddy!” Victor rushes forward, catching Noctis’ wrist and tugging so suddenly that some of the water held in his other hand splashes onto the patio tiles. “Look, there’s a firefly!”

Everyone turns to the direction Victor points. Sure enough, by one of the bushes, there’s a gentle dot of light for only the flicker of a moment before disappearing. It’s followed a few seconds later by another, and within a few minutes, the yard becomes a haven of insects.

“Ah, that’s still pretty, even if they are bugs,” admits Noctis. “Do you want to see if you can get a picture of one?”

He shrugs his arm out of Victor’s grip and frees his phone from his pocket. Once he has it on the right settings, he passes it to Victor.

“You know how to click it. See if you can get a good pic of one up close.” As Victor dashes off, Noctis adds, “Because I sure as hell don’t want to deal with them.”

“Still afraid of bugs?” asks Regis in surprise. “You live on the road. I imagine you encounter many.”

Noctis crinkles up his nose again.

“I had planned to take you all to the butterfly observatory this week,” says Regis. “They have paved walkways, and Clarus promised to help me since I’ll need a wheelchair for someplace that ambitious. Do you think you can handle that?”

Noctis sighs. “Victor will love it.”

“Good!” 

Ignis suppresses his laughter when he sees the dread in Noctis’ face. It is no fun dealing with your worst phobias. Ignis can handle insects if he has to—he doesn’t let them run wild in his living spaces, but it has never bothered him to scoop up a beetle or bee and take it outside.

Victor attempts to catch a few fireflies in his palms and bring them back, and Noctis scoots further and further behind Ignis’ chair each time Victor approaches. Luckily, most of the fireflies escape between Victor’s fingers before the little boy reaches the patio. He does manage a few pictures, but as time progresses on, the remaining sunlight disappears beyond the horizon and leaves them only with the lanterns along the house and the glowing yard of fireflies. The spectacle lasts only a short while past twilight. 

“I think it’s bedtime,” says Noctis, stepping forward to the edge of the patio. “Come on, Victor.”

“Already?” Victor huffs. He’s wide awake. Even though he has been active and playful for hours, it’s clearly going to take a while before he winds down.

“I can read him something before bed,” suggests Ignis, knowing this might give Noctis the privacy he needs with his father as well as the time to wind down that Victor requires.

“Oh, Vicky, you hear that? Ignis says he’ll read you a bedtime story.” 

Victor brightens at this news. “Really?”

“I’ll leave you to talk with your father,” says Ignis, standing so that he can give Noctis a kiss and lead Victor off to bed. “I know you have a lot of catching up to do.”

“I appreciate it.” Noctis leans in for the kiss first. “Thank you, Ignis.” 

Victor slips his hand in Ignis’. “Goodnight, Daddy. Goodnight, Grandpa!”

“Goodnight, Victor.” Noctis reaches over and ruffles his son’s hair before giving him a hug. “Behave for Ignis.” His eyes meet Ignis. “I think you’ve already figured out our routine, but make sure he brushes his teeth. He’s real sneaky about that.”

Ignis spent a lot of time in Galdin and then in Hammerhead getting acquainted with these tastes of fatherhood. He nods before leading Victor up to the guest room he’s sharing with his father. Ignis has his own, separate space—originally meant for Victor, but the child has spent his entire life in a camper, sharing the same bed as Noctis despite having his own. Ignis agreed to take the other, smaller room with its full bed, and give the queen to the other two. 

It doesn’t take long for them both to get ready for bed in their separate rooms after Ignis helps Victor pick out pajamas from the suitcase. Afterward, Victor shuffles into the bathroom both rooms share and brushes his teeth, making no effort to hide his disappointment that “cool” Ignis is as enthusiastic about dental care as Daddy.

“They just fall out anyway,” says Victor when he finishes, opening his mouth wide and pointing to a gap where a tooth is breaking through the pink gums. “See?”

“You have to brush the new ones, too, and your gums, to keep them healthy.” Ignis fetches the tote bag of Victor’s items from the floor next to the bedroom door. “Let’s pick out a book? Oh, and it seems we’re being joined by a friend.” He pulls out Banana from inside the bag and gently hands him over to Victor. “I hope he’s brushed his beak.”

“He did!” says Victor, arms wrapped tightly around the chocobo at his chest as if to protect it from the dreadful toothbrush. “Did Daddy bring The Ugly Chocobo?”

Over many nights, Ignis has listened to Noctis read the same story to Victor. It is undoubtedly the child’s favorite of all of the ones brought along. 

Ignis waits until Victor is snuggled under the covers and sits on the bed next to him. Victor scoots closer until his head is resting against his ribcage. Despite all his energy earlier, it doesn’t take long for Victor’s eyes to close. Ignis finishes the book from beginning to end anyway, wanting to make sure that if Victor isn’t fully asleep, he still gets the complete story. It doesn’t matter if the story has been repeated enough that even Ignis has parts of it down to memory. 

Ignis enjoys that moment of bonding. He’s beginning to feel like a real father, and he thinks back to what Noctis said about him being there for the rest of Victor’s childhood.

Ignis would be very happy, if this is what his life is becoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had 10 chapters all figured out, and then this forming family decided to go off script a bit...or rather, extend their stay. I'm sorry, it seems there will be quite a few more chapters yet. :(


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts a little angsty, but the rest will be happier, as I don’t want to weigh down this story too much.

The yard falls dark in the absence of fireflies, and Noctis and Regis relocate to the shelter of the solarium, where there are no mosquitoes to bite at their arms and Regis can settle into something more comfortable than a patio chair. They’ve brought the tray back in, too, with the water jug, and Noctis refills it from the kitchen before returning to sit across from his father. It’s best they face each other for this conversation.

Noctis waits for Regis to say something before he realizes that it’s up to him to speak. Regis is the one who reached out and invited them. Now it is Noctis’ turn to take the next step.

“I’m sorry it took so long to come back to Insomnia,” says Noctis. 

“I’m just glad you came at all. I was afraid you might not want to.”

“I mostly came for Victor’s sake,” admits Noctis. “You deserve to know each other. Phone calls aren’t enough.”

“He looks like you, but you have different personalities. He’s much livelier than you were! I don’t know how you keep up with him.”

Noctis circles his face with a finger. “Did you think I wore this Tired Dad face for fashion? This is real. But…” _I’d never complain._

“I’m glad you get to spend time with him. I know that was one of my faults as a parent. You only ever saw me in the evenings and on Sundays. Even when you’d come home from school, I wouldn’t be back from work until after dinner some nights. I regret that.”

Noctis used to be devastated that his father was often absent, but as an adult, he knows how hard it is to juggle parenthood and work. It’s why he’s grateful that the odd jobs he takes on are enough to get his family by—even if he hates figuring it all out when doing his taxes. The short shifts and ability to often have his child on site have helped. There were plenty of times where Regis had a nanny bring Noctis to his office, but those moments were short-lived before a meeting demanded Regis’ presence. 

“You tried your best, Dad. You wanted to give me everything and more, in a different way than what worked for me. I’m trying to find a balance of providing for Victor without going in a direction that impairs him in other ways. But I guess as a dad, I’m gonna mess up anyway?”

“Inevitably,” agrees Regis. “But that doesn’t mean we should ever stop trying our best. If you love him and show it whenever you can, though, I think that’s one way that you won’t mess up. That’s the part that matters most.” 

“Yeah…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t show you more support when you left Insomnia, Noctis. That was my biggest failing of all.”

“No, Dad. I should have explained it better, instead of quitting suddenly and walking out like that. I could have told you before I broke down that the office life was stifling me. You provided me with everything you could, and I’m grateful for it. I know I said some ugly things to you back then. I accused you of a lot of horrible things, and I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t always approve of your choices.” Regis takes a long sip of water and doesn’t meet Noctis’ eye at first. “You took off on the road and send me the occasional postcard to remind me you were alive, and sometime that made me angry. Mostly, it made me sad.”

Noctis recalls that period of his life. It was a phase of job experimentation across the globe, working from one corner of the world to the next to discover a career he would like more than his family’s business. The postcards were horrifyingly far apart—months often passed before he thought to send another. 

“I’m so sorry, Dad.”

“When you got married, I was hurt. You didn’t even tell me you were in Altissia or that you’d fallen in love with someone. Suddenly, you call me to say I’ve got a daughter-in-law, and I was never able to meet her.” 

“She wanted to meet you, too,” says Noctis. “I was stupid and stubborn, and I didn’t want to see you yet. I wasn’t ready. She told me I’d never be ready enough for something that hard, and I didn’t listen to her.” Noctis lets out a short, bitter laugh. “She was right. I ought to apologize to you both, for not listening to her. You would’ve loved her.”

“I would like to hear about her someday. I only know a few details, and most of them are about her death and not her life.”

The pain clutching Noctis’ heart makes itself known as hot tears in his eyes. Its grip chokes his throat, too, and makes it hard to speak. Three years has given him some time to heal from the grief, but it’s a patchwork job sewn on in haste because he had to raise his son and keep working to survive. Maybe during that period, he should have returned to Insomnia. Or would he have retreated into a shell and left his son’s care to Regis while he hid beneath the covers all day? 

And with Ignis in his life now, does that mean that he’s forgetting her entirely? That the past they shared together no longer matters? Deep down, a part of him knows she would approve of Ignis. She wouldn’t want him to feel guilty, but that doesn’t stop him. Perhaps his fears about rushing things with Ignis are not only out of concern for Victor’s welfare, but a fear that he’s discarding his love for Ana.

“Dad, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Is it…” Noctis drinks down water in an effort to soothe the burning in his throat. “Is it wrong to move on so fast?”

“You mean with Ignis?”

Noctis nods.

“Does he make you happy? Is he kind to Victor? Does Victor like him?”

“Yes. To all of those.”

Regis smiles. “I think that’s your answer. It was hard for you, but you don’t have to be alone because you loved someone once.”

“When Mom died, you didn’t remarry.”

“I didn’t meet someone else. Besides, I’ve always had Clarus and his family. We might not be lovers, but Clarus might as well be my husband. An annoying one, too, especially with this surgery nonsense.”

“Leave him alone, he takes good care of you. I’m honestly surprised to hear you aren’t lovers. I always thought maybe all of you were polyamorous.” 

Regis looks vexed by this confession, but that only makes Noctis snort out a laugh. 

“Thanks, Dad. It helps to hear that it’s okay to move on.” The guilt clings like a film in Noctis’ mind and heart, but it isn’t as thick now. “I’m doing what I did with Ana. I want to be by his side for as long as I can.” 

“I advise you tell him about Ana, too. I almost slipped out how she died, Noctis. I’m sorry.”

Noctis turns away and takes another long drink of water. He hasn’t been ready to talk about that, but maybe this falls under the same rule as his chat with Regis: Hard things can never be easy, and one is never fully prepared to handle them.

“I felt responsible when your mother died. It was a different situation, but I think anyone who loses a spouse or a close loved one will often feel like they should have done more to prevent it. I wanted to think there might have been some way to prevent it, as if I might someday gain the power to go back in time and reverse things.”

Noctis knows all too well how close that sounds to his own demons regarding Ana’s death. 

“I’ll tell him soon,” says Noctis after a while. “I don’t want to leave him out. I don’t want to leave you out, either.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I’ve been so thrilled to have all of you here, visiting me. It’s something I want, and I’ll clear my schedule to have it if I must. Gladio and Iris often handle all the company matters these days, so it won’t be awful if I play hooky from the business to see my family.”

Noctis loves the sound of visiting Insomnia a little more often. Now that he’s back, it isn’t as bad as he thought it would be, and all he wants is to make the best of the two weeks they have. Maybe this is how he replaces the patchwork healing job over his heart with something stronger.

~*~

Noctis feigns excitement for the butterfly garden, because who is he to crush his son’s enthusiasm with disgust? Maybe he should be grateful there are no scorpions in the glass building. According to the website, it’s like a miniature rainforest within, holding manmade ponds and streams filled with fish. Trees reach for a sky on the other side of frosted glass. Butterflies, moths, and other insects flit about the visitors and flora. Some of the flying bugs have bigger wings than an adult’s palm. 

They drive in separate cars, Clarus undertaking the task of hauling Regis’ wheelchair in his vehicle while Noctis takes Regis’ car. Regis insists they drive something more reliable while they’re staying in the city. 

Right before they pull into the parking lot, a beetle hitches a ride on one of the windshield wipers. Noctis turns them on in the hopes of jostling the little nuisance out of its place, but it clings to the wiper with its gross little legs. 

Once Noctis has pulled into the parking lot of the butterfly gardens—having beaten Clarus and Regis by several minutes—Ignis plucks the beetle up and releases it some several feet away in a bush. But not before Victor insists on being able to get a good look at it. Noctis has to turn away as the creature crawls up Ignis’ palm.

“Thanks,” says Noctis, giving Ignis a kiss on the cheek in his gratitude. “But you gotta wash your hands when we get inside.”

Ignis chuckles. “Will do.”

Clarus’ car finally pulls up, and while Ignis goes inside to find the restroom and wash his hands, Noctis sets to work helping Clarus unload the wheelchair. Regis makes it out of the car fine on his own, but the short distance is still enough to wind him.

“Grandpa!” Victor leans over the arm of the chair. “Ignis has to wash his hands ‘cos he touched a beetle. Daddy doesn’t like bugs, but I do!”

“He never did,” says Regis in a conspiratorial voice as he leans down to “whisper” in his grandson’s ear. “Does he still need help getting rid of them?”

“Yeah, for wasps and spiders! He asks Cindy.”

“I can take care of them! Sometimes…” Noctis should have known as soon as he got these two together, they’d exchange dirt on him. While it is a little embarrassing, however, he’s grateful to see that they get along just as well in person as they do over the phone. 

“I get to see lots of bugs today!” Victor skips ahead of their little group while Clarus pushes the wheelchair and Noctis walks beside them. Every few yards, he stops and waits a minute for everyone else to catch up. 

Ignis is standing in a large lobby not far from the entrance and rejoins the group as they’re making their way to the admissions desk. Regis is paying for all five of them because he has some sort of membership discount that gets them reduced prices for everyone but Victor, who is free under said card. 

“Do you come here often?” asks Noctis as he watches his father tuck his membership card back into his wallet.

“At least once a month, to sit and watch the butterflies. It’s relaxing. Sometimes Clarus and I bring his grandchildren.”

Noctis shrugs. He can’t imagine he’s going to love this too much. Butterflies and moths don’t bother him much, though he’s never been around huge ones before. This will be an interesting test. He’s brought along his son’s tote, complete with the discovery book—they might be adding to it a lot today. His phone is at the ready, and occasionally Noctis snaps photos of his son as Victor walks a yard ahead of them up the path. 

The plants and flowers are pretty. Even Noctis has to admit that the inside of the dome is gorgeous and spectacular. Most of his experience is enjoyed through his son, however, as Victor gets excited about the flora and fauna around him. 

Noctis gets his chance to be delighted when they reach the viewing glass to see the fish in the stream at eye level. Victor gasps as loud as his father, but everyone but the child turns to Noctis and gives him a knowing grin. Is his love of fish that transparent?

There are all types of fish not native to Lucis swimming within the waters. Noctis tries his best to click photos, though the reflection from the glass makes it difficult to capture any quality shots. All the same, he attempts as many as he can.

“For the discovery book,” he tells Victor, but that’s only an added bonus. 

“Get the butterflies, too!” 

“I’ll help, too,” says Ignis, pulling out his phone. 

He isn’t the only one. Everyone, including Clarus, begins taking photos. It doesn’t hurt that Victor poses for half of them, and Regis is clearly trying to make up for lost time by taking as many pictures of his grandson as possible. This gives Noctis a chance to keep his distance from all the bugs. It’s not like butterflies are wasps or earwigs or some especially repugnant insect. From a distance, they can even be pretty! But when he gets a closer look, the way their legs move is enough to give him phantom feelings of them crawling against his skin. 

Noctis decides it’s best to focus on the fish and photograph them most. He ducks beside the glass of the tank, where there are no flowers or plants to attract insects, and snaps as many shots as he can.

“Noctis, let’s move on,” says Regis from the path, and Clarus begins pushing the wheelchair once more. Victor skips behind them, Ignis lingering only a moment for Noctis to catch up.

“Are you all right?” asks Ignis, concern evident in the crease of his brows.

“Ah, I’ll be fine. I’m kind of creeped out by bugs, but at least they’re mostly butterflies.”

“Stick by my side, and I’ll remove any that land on you.”

Noctis shudders and hopes that doesn’t happen to him, but he appreciates the offer. “Thanks. Please do that.”

Victor, meanwhile, sticks out his arms frequently, and calls out to the butterflies. “You can land on me! Come here, butterflies! Pretty please?”

“You have to hold still and be quiet,” offers Ignis. They pause on the path, and he kneels next to Victor, one hand steady on the child’s back. “Hold still and let them come to you.” 

Telling a five-year-old to hold still is one thing; getting him to do it is another. Victor manages for a minute or two with no more than a little rocking on his heels. But as the time passes, he begins to fidget. The only reason he doesn’t abandon the notion entirely and wobble away is the palm that Ignis keeps to his spine, as if catching him before he rocks so far back, he lands on his backside. Victor has lost most of his focus by then. Within that opening of absentmindedness, a butterfly finally lands on Victor’s arm. 

The boy’s mouth drops wide, and he looks up at Noctis, eyes dilated. His father is already ahead of him; Noctis hasn’t put away his phone, and within a few seconds, has clicked half a dozen photos of the insect as it flexes its blue and black wings near Victor’s elbow.

To Victor’s credit, he doesn’t move for a while. He’s so delighted by the creature’s presence that he manages to keep still for longer than when waiting for one to land on him. As if knowing children are always on the move, the butterfly makes its exit, flying high enough to join others at the top of the canopy of leaves overhead. 

“Did you see that?” Victor turns his wide eyes on Noctis, who nods. He skips over and raises himself on his tiptoes to get a look at Noctis’ phone screen. “Oh wow! That’s a good picture of me!”

“Yeah, it is,” agrees Noctis, ruffling his son’s hair with a free hand. 

Another butterfly doesn’t land on Victor, but two of them find places on Regis’ shoulders later on down the path, and they seem to favor the top of Clarus’ head. Victor keeps close to the older men, gasping each time one joins them, if only for a few seconds. Not wanting to miss the opportunity to take pictures of Clarus covered in butterflies to send to Iris and Gladio, Noctis keeps his phone out with his camera ready, and he clicks away. They won’t work as blackmail; Clarus even straightens his back and glares at Noctis sharply as if to remind him that he’s not affected by being covered in a fluttering rainbow of wings.

When they reach the end of the paths and return to the main lobby, Victor seems disappointed until Regis mentions the giftshop. Victor, so used to Noctis’ rules about not having too many items due to their limited space, turns to his father in surprise.

“One item?” asks Victor, holding up a finger.

“A grandparent should be allowed to spoil his grandchildren,” protests Regis. 

“I didn’t say anything against it. Those are just are usual rules when it comes to souvenirs. One shell, one book, one toy, and endless digital pictures.” Noctis grins. “We’ll find room. Let Grandpa spoil you. Just make sure you don’t pick out something expensive.”

“Noctis.” Regis frowns, which only makes his son smirk.

“Oh, okay then. Pick out the most expensive thing.”

“Noctis Lucis Caelum, whatever am I to do with you?” Regis sighs. 

“Full name, Daddy,” whispers Victor in awe. “Behave yourself.”

Noctis tries not to laugh. “Yeah, I’d better do that. You go on, go pick something out. We’ll follow you in in a minute.”

Victor nods and follows Regis and Clarus into the giftshop. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Noctis turns to Ignis, and both of them erupt into laughter at the same time.

“I think I got told off by my kid,” remarks Noctis.

“You _were_ acting childish.” Ignis’ tone is full of fondness. “Let’s go in and see what Victor is going to select, shall we?”

Noctis can hear Victor’s gasps of delight as they enter the giftshop. It makes him feel bad that they have the one-item rule when this is the first time Regis will be able to get Victor something special, but it’s good in other ways. Victor has gotten pretty good about making his own choices. The only time the rule lifts is for those coin machines at Hammerhead, because the items are random, and Victor often gifts the extras to other kids or trades them off for something he desires more. Even then, Noctis is careful with the candy machines and limits those. After a childhood of smuggled sweets and pretending to brush his teeth, he paid for it in his teenage years with lots of cavities, and he’s trying to prevent the same happening to Victor.

But kids will be kids, and it’s no surprise when some of the flower-shaped chocolates catch Victor’s eyes.

“This won’t take up room,” he negotiates, peering up at Noctis slyly. 

“It will in your tummy,” counters Noctis. “I told you, we’ll find room. You want something special to make you think of your visit here with Grandpa, right? Chocolate disappears.”

“Yeah.” Victor taps his lip thoughtfully before swinging toward the wall of toys. His steps quicken as he nears the plush toys. Those are always his favorite and the one thing that’s increasingly hard to store—but there is room on the bunk beds, Noctis supposes. 

The final choice comes down to a blue plush moth the size of a dinnerplate and a “bug capturing” kit with fake plastic bugs that aren’t realistic but still too close for Noctis’ comfort. He’s not keen on the idea of finding one on the kitchen counter at seven in the morning when he’s half-asleep. 

“The moth is cute, and you won’t lose any pieces,” says Noctis, hoping to sway the vote. 

“Noctis, it’s not your decision to make,” scolds Regis. 

Victor glances between the moth in his arms and the box on the shelves. He hugs the toy tighter to his chest. “Um. Daddy?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“I can use the nets to catch real bugs, right?”

“I think so,” says Noctis, squinting at the box. “Might be kind of hard. They’re small.” And he doesn’t really like the idea of having to deal with another scorpion incident.

“Oh, okay.” Victor sighs. “I was gonna use it to protect you when the bugs bother you. Can I get a net someday?”

“Oh, uh. Sure.” Noctis doesn’t know what to say, but he’s not going to object to that. The only thing on his mind is wanting to squeeze Victor into a hug for being the sweetest kid on earth. “I’d like it if you helped me out. Thanks, Vicky.”

Victor turns to Regis and holds out the moth. “Can I please have this, Grandpa?”

Regis grins. “I think it’s perfect. What shall you name it?”

“Blueberry Pancakes,” says Victor. “It’s blue and flat, and I like pancakes. Blue is my favorite color.”

“That’ll be hard to break to Banana,” mutters Noctis into Ignis’ ear, making sure only his partner can hear him.

“Ignis makes the best pancakes,” says Victor, chattering on animatedly as Regis leads him to the register to pay for the new toy. 

“He chose one toy for me and one toy for you.” Noctis glances down at the shelf holding the bug capturing kit and thinks about what Victor wanted to do. “One is a blueberry pancake and the other is a Daddy Protection Net.”

“You’ll have to get him a net so he can properly defend you,” muses Ignis, grabbing Noctis’ hand and squeezing. They exchange fond smiles.

This might be the sign Noctis needed to know there’s no such thing as moving too fast towards happiness. All the guilt Noctis admitted to during his chat with Regis disappears. Deep in his heart, he knows this is what Ana would want for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that Ana took on a bigger role than I meant for her; she was originally supposed to be a throwaway OC (one name short of nameless) so that Victor could exist. I got invested in what Noct’s past would be like, though. I won’t be including how she died (intentionally chose not to come up with anything), but I’m going to assume that somewhere along the way, outside of the content in this fic, there’s a scene where Ignis and Noctis talk about the past in full detail. There’s comforting, and hugs! And honestly? I imagine Ana as a ghost, nudging Noctis in the direction of Ignis, hissing, “Go for it! He’s hot, intelligent, and kind—don’t let him go!” :’)
> 
> My anxiety has been stopping me from posting this chapter for days, so posting it now is a forceful act of defiance. Haha.


	10. Chapter 10

Ignis feels as if there has been some kind of shift in their lives since the visit to the butterfly garden. One night, Noctis opens up to him about his past—his life with Ana and the events surrounding her death. All Ignis can do is hold him close and reassure him, but it’s something that needed to be said for Noctis to move forward.

The next “big” thing comes while they’re all out on the back porch after lunch, having had something of a picnic with some other guests. This includes Clarus’ children and grandchildren as well as Prompto, who happens to be near Insomnia and wanted to stop in for a visit. Prompto leaves shortly after their meal, but not before showing Ignis pictures of his school years with Noctis.

Iris arrives with her husband and infant son, and Gladiolus brings along his two daughters. The girls are both older at ten and eleven, but they don’t mind playing with Victor. Gladiolus chases them all around the yard, pretending to be a monster on their tails. Iris follows behind her older brother while her little boy shouts out and tries to be put down, but he’s not yet walking—just determined to try. To give her son the illusion that he’s part of the chase, Iris sets him on the ground with his hands in hers, and they toddle their way together towards the cacophony.

“You know, I’d do this again,” says Noctis, nodding at kids. “Having another kid, I mean.”

The confession comes unexpectedly, and there’s a distinct fondness in Noctis’ tone when he says it. It speaks volumes of his love for his child and his self-awareness.

“We have to talk about kids,” admits Noctis, tilting his head up at Ignis. “When’s the best time for that? When we first met? When we’re dating for six months? Before marriage, I’m guessing. If, y’know…” A pink tinge spreads across Noctis’ face and the tips of his ears. “Anyway, I think you know this by now, but I come with a kid, and I don’t want to date if it’s not serious, and…” 

“Noct.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m aware you have a child and want to put his welfare above all else. I wouldn’t have taken to you so much if you didn’t prioritize him.” Ignis pauses, giving himself time to carefully think over his next words. “We should talk about children now, since you’ve brought it up.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. Sorry if I sprung that on you.”

“I’m glad you did.” Ignis hasn’t wanted to approach the topic in a way that is insensitive to Noctis. Children and whether or not to have them is an important discussion all couples should have before they get too far into a relationship. It’s required to discuss Ignis’ potential role in Victor’s life, but what about giving him siblings? “I’ve wanted to have children for a while now, but I admit, I always expected my future spouse and I would adopt.”

“Babies, toddlers, or any kid?” The way Noctis says it is guarded. As it should be, when his son is well beyond the days of infancy. 

“Younger, rather than older, but I never limited myself to newborns. That’s what I imagined, but there weren’t any strict guidelines in my head.” Ignis has always been a planner who prepares for all situations, but he avoided making decisions for situations that include a partner he had yet to meet. “I’ve never had more than a vague expectation. You can’t plan everything for the future, can you? I certainly never foresaw dating you and becoming a part of Victor’s life, but I’ve treasured our time spent together.”

“Me, too. Didn’t see myself talking about more kids with someone while sitting in my dad’s backyard, either. I guess I thought I’d be more like my dad. But lots of good changes have happened—not that everything before was all bad.” Noctis picks at a fray in his jeans. “I didn’t think I could be _this_ happy.”

Ignis understands exactly what he means. 

“I want this to be my life, Noctis. Being here with all of you…” It’s dreamlike, but after weeks of it, Ignis knows there’s nothing more real. “The love I feel is for both of you. Victor is a wonderful child, and I’m grateful to be in his life at all.”

“You have a lot of work ahead with Victor,” admits Noctis. “Even if he’s excited to have you around, there’s a lot to learn about him.”

“Parenting isn’t always pleasant.” Ignis thinks back to the scorpion and the glass jar. “I’m good at taking care of creepy crawlies.”

That earns him a genuine laugh. “Yeah, but I think you know it’s more than that.” 

Ignis takes some time to think over his phrasing carefully. They have a distraction, anyway—Victor is yelling for his father because he has successfully managed to “capture” Gladiolus by climbing onto his back. All the kids have surrounded Gladiolus, but he could easily evade them if he chose. After a moment of feigned struggle, Gladiolus plucks Victor up over his head and tries to chase him again. The girls take after their father, and Iris yells out her brother’s best “tickle spots” for when they have him cornered. 

“They’re noisy,” says Noctis with a chuckle. “We used to do this in the house. How do you think I broke all those vases?”

Ignis snorts. “Be sure to let Clarus know.”

“Nah, I’ll pass.” 

There’s another pause, and Ignis finally musters up the courage to continue their conversation about children—and his role as a parent in Victor’s life.

“Being a stepfather will take the same work as dealing with a newborn. I’m already accustoming myself to Victor’s needs and personality, but as you said, I have a long road ahead.”

Noctis nods approvingly. “Yeah, we’ll all adjust together.”

“I’d like that. If that’s the case, it might be some time before I can truly consider another child. I like the idea, but it doesn’t mean it will be possible.”

“That’s a good point. When we know, let’s tell each other?” 

“Of course.”

“That’s really all I need to know. I like the idea, but Victor’s enough for me. There’s a lot to consider, too, like Victor’s feelings and our financial situation.”

“It’s financially possible. Don’t let that determine your own choices. I can handle it.”

“Ah, good.” Noctis grins, but suddenly his eyes widen. “Wait, what do you mean you can financially handle it?” 

“Noct, your father and I have worked together. Our incomes were likely similar. Surely you know what that means?”

Noctis shrugs. “We can afford a bigger RV if you move in with us?”

Ignis can’t help but laugh. “Aren’t you driving the largest size allowed on the road?”

“You’re sharp.” Noctis groans and leans back in his lawn chair. “Maybe we could get a small house somewhere, and travel a lot? Maybe a cabin in Duscae? I’d love to be near all those fishing places.”

It doesn’t matter where they go. Ignis would even return to Insomnia, as long as he finds a job that doesn’t require so many hours of him as the last. As long as he’s with the right people, he can move to just about anywhere. And they have elasticity in their decisions; if something doesn’t work out, they can figure out a way to change it. All that matters to Ignis is that they’re together.

~*~

Their time in Insomnia is just about coming to a close. In three days, they’ll be heading back to Hammerhead for a night, and then it’ll be on to Lestallum. Ignis is looking forward to seeing new things and having new experiences, but he’ll also miss the firefly-lit gardens behind Regis’ house and the quiet conversations with Clarus every morning. There will be others, though. Noctis and Regis have already discussed at least one annual trip to Insomnia and another where Regis comes to them—wherever they might be. Everyone has already told Ignis that he’s welcome, too, and Noctis has made it clear that there’s no doubt Ignis will be with him. No one seems less than approving of Ignis as an addition to the family, though—Regis and Clarus have made it clear they think of him as a member already.

As Ignis fixes his usual morning brew, he hears the front door open. A few minutes later, Clarus steps into the kitchen, poking his head about with a large paper bag in his hands. There are blue stains on the outside of it, and he gently sets it on the countertop.

“I’ve gone and picked blueberries this morning,” says Clarus. “I thought we might have some for breakfast—Victor naming his moth ‘Blueberry Pancake’ gave me the idea.”

“I am assuming you want pancakes?” asks Ignis with a smile, sharp as ever to the implication. Everyone has figured out he’s a good cook. 

“You’ve caught me. Would you mind?”

“Not at all. I have an excellent recipe for pancakes, and adding blueberries to them won’t be any trouble at all.” 

Clarus claps him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Ignis.”

There’s a sound on the stairs, and a few minutes later, soft but quick footsteps on the carpet—hushed only by the owner’s socks—make their way to the kitchen. Victor rushes at Ignis and throws his arms around his middle.

“Good morning!” chirps the little boy as Ignis pulls him into a hug.

“Morning, Victor. Did you sleep well?”

“Yup!” Victor pokes his nose up over the counter, eyeing the bag of blueberries curiously. “Whatcha doing?”

“I’m going to make pancakes with blueberries Clarus picked. Would you like to help me?”

The little boy stares up at Ignis in awe. “Can I?”

“Yes, if you follow my instructions carefully. We’ll be working around a lot of heat, and I wouldn’t want you to get burned.”

Victor nods, straightening up to show Ignis he has his full attention. “I’ll be careful!”

“I’ll leave you two chefs to it, then,” says Clarus. “I ought to check on the mail and check on Regis. Feel free to use as many blueberries as you need.”

There are really more blueberries than what they’ll be able to use for pancakes, even if Ignis makes a huge batch. Ignis doubles the recipe and—with Victor’s help—sets out all the ingredients before they start mixing everything together.

Victor is on stirring duty. As part of the cooking lesson, Ignis first holds one hand over Victor’s on the rim of the mixing bowl, and the other over Victor’s grip on the wooden spoon. They stir together, slowly, so Victor becomes familiar with the motions and timing.

“You don’t want to have the ingredients slop out, so you must stir carefully, until it’s all smooth,” says Ignis, releasing his own hold and watching Victor successfully do several stirs on his own. “That’s right, exactly like that. You’re doing a great job.”

Victor puffs out his cheeks and narrows his eyes on the bowl in concentration. While he’s busy, Ignis only spares him a few glances while he prepares the gridle. After some time, Clarus wanders back in to check on them.

“Are you mixing it well?” Clarus leans in near the bowl, and Victor hugs it protectively to his chest.

“Yes.” There’s a petulant tone to Victor’s voice that challenges Clarus to tell him otherwise. “These are gonna be the best pancakes you’ve ever had.”

“Clarus was the one who brought the blueberries over,” says Ignis. “He was inspired when you named your moth.”

“Blueberry will be joining us for breakfast, won’t she?” Clarus winks down at Victor.

“Yeah, I should get her when I go wake Daddy!” 

“Do you want to help me pour the first few pancakes first?” asks Ignis. The mixing bowl is far too big, and he fishes out a ladle to help scoop batter out of it so Victor can use that to make the pancakes.

“Yes, please! Can I give the ones I make to Daddy?”

“Yes, you may.” 

“And one for Grandpa. And you!”

“What about me?” asks Clarus, pretending to sound wounded that he’s been left out.

“You, too! Everyone gets one of my pancakes. That’s…” Victor counts on his fingers. “Five, so I can have one, too! And I want Daddy to have more than that!”

“You could give him three.”

“That’s…” Victor adds three more fingers. “Eight.”

“Ah, but you already had one for him,” says Ignis. “You’ll need to add two, not three. Four people plus three for Daddy.” 

Victor counts again. “Seven!” He holds up all of his fingers proudly at Ignis.

“Very good!” 

Ignis retrieves the stepping stool from the walk-in pantry and sets it in front of the gridle. Victor steps onto it, taking care not to get his hands too close to the gridle. With the mixing bowl in Ignis’ hands, Victor dips the ladle into the batter.

“There you go. That’s enough. Onto the next one. Oh, you’ll need more batter—go on.” Ignis talks him through each step, until the large gridle has six rather oddly shaped pancakes, all spaced out enough that no more will fit.

“We can just give Daddy two,” says Victor, looking anxious. Ignis suspects he’s a little worn out from this particular activity; it can be boring and tire out the arms when one doesn’t have practice. 

“Yes, I think that’ll be fine. I’ll make the other batches, and you can fetch Blueberry Pancake and your father.”

“We didn’t make Blueberry one! She’ll be hungry!”

“Oh no, let’s do a small one.” Ignis scans the gridle and finds a small space. “Here, let’s see if we can fit a little one there.” He helps Victor put just enough batter into the ladle to make one no rounder than a ping-pong ball.

“Thanks, Ignis!” Victor hurries off, clearly satisfied that he’s been able to help with breakfast.

“Take advantage of that,” says Clarus, pointing after the little boy before taking the stepstool back to the pantry. “We could never get Noctis to help around the house. The minute he saw a vacuum or a sponge, he disappeared.” Clarus snaps his fingers. “Without a trace. No idea where he ever went.”

Ignis chuckles. “I think he might have a slight aversion to housework.”

“Slight? That’s an understatement.” Clarus finishes up. “I’d better check on Regis again. He insists on doing everything alone, but he’s only being stubborn. While I hope he never has surgery again, if he does, I’m hiring a nurse.”

Ignis doesn’t voice that he highly doubts that—Clarus and Regis almost seem to enjoy bickering at each other like an old married couple. There is fondness even in Clarus’ accusation as he finishes putting away the stepstool and disappears down the hall to the main floor guest room, where Regis has been staying to avoid him traversing the stairs these past few weeks. 

For a while, Ignis has the kitchen to himself, and he hums as he prepares food. It dawns on him for the thousandth time how much his life has changed. Something as simple as Clarus randomly picking blueberries in the morning has brightened his morning. Not as much as cooking with Victor, though. He could do that everyday and never tire of it, if Victor doesn’t get bored with it first. The morning is warm and bright, and he is in a home, about to eat with a family that already feels like his own. He only has one living relative; the uncle who raised him and works at a history museum in Cartanica. Part of him remembers mornings much like this one, with his uncle’s cooking attempts. Perhaps that’s why he feels as if these moments have been missing from his life; he remembers once having them as a child.

Ignis finishes a few more batches on his own, the pancakes spreading into more uniform circles on the gridle. As he’s finishing up, he hears the sound of multiple pairs of slippers and the tap of Regis’ walker. Everyone gathers at the table while Ignis rinses off a few blueberries and brings out some whipped cream to top their meal with. There’s a special plate with all of Victor’s blob-shaped pancakes on them.

“I made these!” says Victor excitedly, pointing at them. “One each except for Daddy—he gets two.”

Noctis is caught in mid-yawn when his son makes the announcement, and he lowers the hand over his mouth and snakes his arms around Victor. “For me? Thank you!”

Everyone eats their pancakes by Victor first before diving into the rest. Maybe it’s fondness that makes Victor’s taste a little better to Ignis. It’s almost a shame to devour the memories. 

“I wish someone had been around to take pictures of us cooking together,” admits Ignis to Noctis.

“Oh, I captured a few,” says Clarus, waving his phone at them. “I’ll text them to you shortly.”

Ignis waits patiently and continues eating, but his breakfast is made even better when he is informed of an incoming wave of texts. Unable to resist waiting until after their meal, Ignis pulls them up. 

The last picture Clarus sends is of both Ignis and Victor’s backs to the camera, nearly hip to hip, as Victor pours a ladle-full of pancake batter onto the griddle. The morning lighting and the angle are perfect for the shot. Ignis sets it as his phone’s background.

“Ready to be a proud daddy already?” asks Noctis, leaning over his shoulder. Before Ignis can answer, Noctis adds, “I was the same when I became a dad.” 

He leaves a kiss on Ignis’ cheek before hopping up in an attempt to escape the dish-cleaning duty Clarus assigns him. It doesn’t work. One threat to reveal an embarrassing moment from Noctis’ childhood has him slinking behind the kitchen sink. Once everyone has settled down, Ignis returns to admiring his new phone background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're not moving so slow anymore, they're already like "we're married but without the marriage" but ahaha well... that's not long off, I imagine ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Noctis loves being a father, but it hasn’t been without exhausting nights, countless scares regarding his child’s health and safety, and a boatload of tantrums. Reaching this point in his life has been a trial. He doesn’t feel regret, but he wishes some things had been different. 

That’s why he allows himself to savor that extra stretch of sleep in the mornings. Who thought he’d ever sleep past nine again? Victor is usually up by six or a little after, demanding breakfast and cartoons. It’s been a treat since they’ve been in Insomnia; Ignis seems to be tuned into Noctis’ need for extra sleep and makes accommodations. It’s appreciated, but Noctis has the feeling it’ll be short-lived. Once they’re out on the road again tomorrow, they won’t have Regis and Clarus to help with keeping Victor entertained, and Ignis can’t be expected to take on all morning child care.

When Noctis pads downstairs to greet Ignis and Victor, he can’t find either one in any of the main rooms. He peeks into his father’s office and is warmed to his soul by the sight of Victor sitting on Regis’ lap. The pair is flipping through a photo album.

“Daddy looks a lot like me, doesn’t he?” declares Victor. “We’re twins!”

“Nearly enough,” agrees Regis. “I’d say you have very different personalities. Your father was somewhat surly at times.”

“I was not,” says Noctis, giving away his presence in the doorway. He folds his arms across his chest and glowers at his father. “I remember having a sweet disposition.”

“Until someone asked you to eat your vegetables or told you to play outside.” Regis chuckles.

“I’m not going to live that down, am I? It’s been twenty years.”

“Give or take a few years and which mischief we’re referring to.” Regis winks at Noctis. 

“Don’t give him any ideas. I don’t need him copying after me.”

“I’m gonna be like Ignis,” Victor announces. “I’ll ride a motorcycle and wear fancy clothes!”

Noctis isn’t entirely sure how to feel about this news. On one hand, he definitely would prefer his kid to have more shit together than he does, but on the other hand, isn’t he as awesome as Ignis, in his own ways? But the whole motorcycle thing has to go. (No, he won’t be that kind of parent, forbidding everything. But a motorcycle? Really? He doesn’t want to think about Victor growing up enough to legally drive one. _Future_ Noctis can deal with that anxiety.)

“Where _is_ Ignis?” asks Noctis, choosing to change the subject.

“Ignis took a walk earlier. It’s a beautiful day, don’t you agree?” Regis nods his head toward the windows, and Noctis peers out at the bright gardens. “He let you stay in bed late again.”

“Well, you all spilled the beans about my napping a lot, didn’t you? I guess he wants to treat me now.”

“Those aren’t beans, Daddy, everyone knows that.” The matter-of-fact way in which Victor presents this statement makes Noctis narrow his eyes playfully at his son.

“If you know that, why don’t you let me sleep in?” teases Noctis. 

“I like our mornings.” 

Well. Now Noctis feels bad. “I do, too.” 

“Noctis?” Regis adjusts Victor on his lap, grimacing in a way that suggests his knees hurt more than he’s willing to let on. 

“Dad.” Noctis leaves the lecture at one word, and Regis sighs. 

“Let me have him a few more minutes.” 

Noctis takes a deep breath before nodding.

Regis smiles. “Good. And I had something to ask you. Could you and I spend the day together, just the two of us? Clarus and Ignis are willing to take Victor for a drive around the city, to look at the statues. I know you find all that a bit boring, and I’d like to have more time to talk.”

Noctis doesn’t know if he loves this suggestion or if he should feel apprehensive.

“We have many things left to say, don’t we?” says Regis. “I know it means you’ll have to take care of me on your own for a few hours—”

“Don’t worry about that, Dad. I don’t mind.” The idea of dealing with Regis and his walker or cane sounds less exhausting than chasing after an energetic child all day. “Victor wanted to see the city—didn’t you, buddy?”

“Yes!” Victor cries. Despite going to the zoo once with Noctis and Ignis and a few other little trips, Victor hasn’t had a proper tour of Insomnia yet. Regis is right; Noctis won’t miss out on the historical portions that will take place if he skips out. But what’s in store for him otherwise?

“Clarus and Ignis will have to take lots of pictures of you today, so remind them,” says Noctis. “And if you get ice cream, you have to bring some back for me!”

“Nah, we’re gonna eat it all, ‘specially the strawberry.” Victor waits for his father’s reaction and giggles when Noctis wags a finger at him playfully. “We’ll bring you back toothpaste ice cream.”

Victor is referring to mint chocolate chip, a flavor they both equally hate.

“Maybe you should eat that one—for your stinky breath.” Noctis plucks his son quickly off his father’s lap so he can tickle him without Victor thrashing right into Regis’ knees.

“Grandpa! Help!” shouts Victor, letting out a screech between his laughter when Noctis blows a raspberry on his exposed tummy. “Help!”

“What’s all this commotion?” The mock-serious tone that comes from the doorway belongs to Clarus, and just as it used to make a much younger Noctis stand up straight to attention, it has the same effect now. “I can hear you all through the house.”

“Sorry, Uncle Clarus,” says Victor, unaffected. He’s been around Cid’s harmless bark long enough not to be bothered by Clarus’, either.

Clarus ruffles the boy’s hair as he passes and eyes Noctis carefully before turning to Regis. “Have you discussed our plan yet?”

“Yes,” says Regis. “I hope you have a wonderful time today.”

“Make sure you take lots of pictures,” adds Noctis. 

Clarus easily slips his phone from his pocket and waves it. “I have children and grandchildren, too, Noctis. I’m well-prepared to capture as many moments as they’ll allow. Aster used to be quite camera shy as a baby, so I’ve learned to be quick about it.”

“Now she demands pictures,” chimes in Regis. “Reminds me of Iris.”

“She’s very much like her aunt, yes.” Clarus smiles at Victor, who has leaned back enough in his father’s arms to see everything upside-down. “Are you excited to see the city, Victor?”

Victor nods, his hair flopping around. It takes some maneuvering to get him back on his feet properly, because he’s pretending to be deadweight in his father’s arms, but Noctis tickles him into action. Once he’s on the ground, he dashes over to Clarus. 

“What about Ignis?” asks Victor, peering around. “We can’t leave without him!”

“We won’t. Give him a few minutes to finish his walk.”

It is a little more than a few minutes, and Victor is restless the entire time. Even when Regis offers to look at more pictures with him, Victor can only stand by his desk for so long before the fidgeting begins. The ties on his hoodie are in his mouth, too, and he gnaws on them as he casts his gaze at the doorway.

When they hear the front door, Victor dashes off. The “indoor voice” rule goes out the window in Victor’s excitement, but Noctis only laughs as he overhears, “We get to see the city! Daddy’s now Grandpa’s nurse today instead of Uncle Clarus!”

Ignis looks amused but rather helpless as Victor drags him into the study. A phone camera lets out a little snap beside Noctis, and he turns to see Clarus capturing the moment.

“Uncle Clarus, the day doesn’t last forever!”

“Oh, but if we wait until nighttime, the city lights are quite a view, too!”

The statement earns Clarus a stern frown from Victor, but instead of looking chastened, Clarus laughs.

“All right, troops. Time to move out.” 

Ignis leans over to peck Noctis on the cheek. “I’ll see you much later tonight, Noct. We’ll bring back dinner.” 

“Sounds good. Have fun, hope you still have an arm by the time the day is done.”

Ignis chuckles. “I’d be more worried about my hearing.” 

Noctis sets a hand on his son’s head, fingers outstretched like he’s a claw in a machine grabbing at a toy. Not hard, like a claw machine, either; Victor could slip away easily, just like a toy does in a claw machine. It’s only to get his attention for a second. “Have fun and listen to Ignis and Uncle Clarus. The city’s no place to get lost.”

“I know the rules, Daddy!” 

“You know them, but I want you to stick by them.”

“I always do!”

Noctis rolls his eyes, knowing full well that rules are circumstantial, particularly when said circumstances are about what works for or against a young child’s favor. There’s always some new situation that tests a kid’s critical thinking skills, and while Victor can mostly be trusted, Noctis worries like any parent. As he said, the city’s no place to get lost; the idea of his son getting misplaced in a crowd bothers the heck out of him.

“Here, take this with you, and call if you end up separated.” Noctis releases Victor and presses his cell phone into Victor’s free hand. “Grandpa’s home and cell numbers are in the contacts if you need something from us, and Ignis and Clarus are in there, too. You remember how to unlock it?”

“Yup!” 

“Good.” 

The exchange makes Noctis feel a little better. It’s one thing to have Cid, Cindy, or Ignis looking after Victor while Noctis is working nearby or doing deliveries in the general region. This is a different kind of distance, and with a lot more traffic, from both cars and people. 

“He’ll be fine,” promises Clarus, setting a firm hand on Noctis’ shoulder. “I’ve managed to keep your father in one piece.”

“Go, Clarus,” says Regis in a commanding, somewhat kingly, voice. “Before you annoy me.”

“I think I already have,” hums Clarus, tossing up his keys in the air and snatching them. There’s confidence in his stroll as he leaves the study to catch up with Ignis and Victor.

~*~

With the heat coming in through the solarium windows, Noctis suggests they sit in the family room instead. It’s less forgotten than the living room, but it’s clear no one spends much time in here, either. There’s a box of toys in the corner that must have been bought with Victor in mind just as much as Clarus’s grandchildren, and a television set with only basic channels. 

There was a time—when Noctis was still a kid—when he would play video games in this room for hours with Prompto. Those days seem long behind them. The walls are painted a different color, and the old couch that endured many a teenaged butt plopping on it too hard has been switched out for a L-shaped sofa with an ottoman. Regis makes himself comfortable in a matching chair nearby, cane resting against the arm. 

Noctis takes up the edge of the sofa nearest to his father, pushing the ottoman close so he can stretch out comfortably. But even as he settles in, daydreaming of a nap in this very spot, he can’t help but miss the kiddo who typically curls up next to him.

“Feels kind of empty in this house,” says Noctis. After so many years of wishing he could have one quiet weekend to himself to break the cacophony of parenthood, he dislikes the stillness after only one hour away from his son. 

“It’s too big for me, but I bought it with your mother, and I can’t quite let it go.”

“That’s the way I feel about the RV.” Noctis swirls his finger around on the upholstered arm, watching as it leaves a drawing in the fibers. 

“There’s room for you and Victor, any time you want to visit. It doesn’t matter how often, and I don’t mind if you arrive unannounced. You’re welcome on my doorstep if you find yourselves anywhere near Insomnia.”

After nearly having to make appointments to have father-son time at all with Regis during childhood, the offer arouses a mixture of bitterness and relief in Noctis. This is what he has always wanted, but it feels late. He doesn’t need his father anymore. 

But he does want him in his life.

“We’ll do that,” promises Noctis.

Regis grips the arms of his chair and watches Noctis carefully. Regis has the uncanny ability to sit or stand still and not gesture wildly or make it clear he’s nervous. As a result, it always feels like an intervention is about to happen. 

“What’s it like, living on the road out of an RV?” The question might come from curiosity or condescension, or perhaps it’s a mixture of both. “I know you’re much happier now, but I have no idea how you manage it—just that you do.”

Noctis shrugs. “It’s a house with wheels. We have a bathroom, a kitchen. Victor is in a schooling program that sends me workbooks and dates to have field trips with other parents and kids in the same program. It lists events, too, like fairs and museum events. I take odd jobs wherever I can, which sucks when it’s tax time, but it gives me freedom to travel and help Victor with school.”

That bit makes Regis laugh. “I’m sure Ignis can help you with your taxes in the future. I can already see how coordinated the two of you are, as a couple and as parents.”

A warm feeling starts in Noctis’ chest, and it spreads until the corners of his lips are tugging into a bashful smile. 

“It’d be nice to have help on my taxes,” he jokes, because it feels weird to admit to his father how much he loves Ignis. Not that it doesn’t show in the way he behaves.

“Tell me more about Victor’s schooling program. Does this mean he makes friends?”

“He has friends everywhere, and only a few are from the program—some he meets along the way. We collect gifts for them, and Victor likes to send them postcards and stickers. We’re going to Lestallum soon to see some of them.” Noctis pauses. “I know it seems cruel to rip him from his friends, but lots of people have parents who have to travel for work. I’ve been keeping track of how he feels. If…” Noctis swallows. “If he ever hates being on the road, I’ll have to stop. I figure that day’s coming anyway.”

There will be a point in Victor’s life where he’s going to want to plant roots and have friends he hangs out with every weekend, just as Noctis always spent his time with Prompto. Victor is far more sociable than Noctis ever was at that age, too. 

“Maybe he’ll continue to enjoy traveling and having friends around the world,” offers Regis. “All you can do is take his feelings into consideration, as you already are.”

Noctis nods. “We’ll work it out somehow, when that time comes.”

There’s a pause, and it almost feels like an awkward silence is about to follow, but Regis speaks up again after a minute. 

“Tell me about your odd jobs. Do you have any favorites?”

Noctis is caught off-guard by the question. No one has ever asked him what he likes; it’s work, and he manages to do small jobs often better than doing one job all the time. Most of them allow him some level of isolation, too, and it’s seldom he ever has to deal with surly customers. He’s snapped at by toothy fish more often than by people.

Unless he’s working for Cid, and most of those are half-hearted complaints meant to keep others on task. 

“You can’t tell him, but I like working for Cid. I’m always running errands for him or sorting inventory. It gets a little repetitive, but I don’t have to deal with a lot of people. Cid and Cindy are great, and they look out for Victor whenever we’re in Hammerhead.”

“Cid always says he’s working you to the bone.” Regis smiles, a teasing gleam in his eyes.

“He keeps me busy, but it’s not that bad. Makes the time go quickly. I do work for a woman in Lestallum, Holly, and she’s pretty easy to get along with. The pay’s amazing, too.”

“Do you still fish?”

“When Victor lets me. He gets bored with it fast, and there’s only so long I can keep him occupied with books and toys before he wants to leave. Can’t really blame him—he’s only five. I’m already planning a huge fishing trip when he’s a teenager. Maybe I’ll send him here for two weeks.” Noctis is only partially joking; he doesn’t know how the future will go now that Ignis is in their lives, and he may have other children to think about by then. Oh well, he can send them off to Grandpa, too.

“That sounds more like a promise than a threat.”

Noctis raises an eyebrow, trying not to break out in a smile. “Will I have trouble getting him back from you once I hand him over?”

“Well.” Regis clears his throat. “Maybe. I’m very fond of him.”

“He’ll be a teenager. You might not want to keep him at that stage. With any luck, he won’t be too obnoxious, but you never know.”

“You weren’t obnoxious. We never had many fights. At worst, you were overly sarcastic and a bit slovenly. Don’t think I didn’t catch on that you were eating pizza in here with Prompto when I wasn’t home.” Regis swirls his finger around to indicate the room. “I’d find globs of sauce on that gross couch and on my carpet.”

“I miss that couch.”

“You broke that couch, wrestling with Prompto, and when I asked to throw it out, you draped across it and said I’d have to throw you out with it.”

Noctis has a very clear recollection of said event, but at all costs, would like to deny it. “And you say I wasn’t an obnoxious teenager.” He peers around. “When did you redecorate? Did you burn our couch as soon as I moved out, like you said you would?”

“I redecorated about four years ago, with Clarus’ help. He has a good eye for décor.” 

“Sure, if you like things right out of a magazine.” It’s too neat and minimalistic for Noctis. The pizza and soda stains are gone, though, which is admittedly an improvement.

“As for your beloved sofa, I did not burn it. I had it sent away.”

“Did you at least give it one last pizza slice and a soda? It deserved one last meal before death.”

The look Regis sends Noctis suggests he might like to throw a pillow at him, but he’s far too collected for that. 

“If you remember, you were never allowed to eat in this room.”

“And if you remember, I broke that rule whenever you weren’t home.” Oh, the joys of trying to hide pizza boxes and soda cans whenever Noctis heard his father or Clarus in the house. Those were good memories.

“I look forward to the day you deal with the same thing from Victor.”

Noctis waves away the threat. “Nah, we don’t have silly rules about where we eat. I live in an RV. If I started banning food in rooms, we’d have to eat outside. This room is bigger than my entire home, Dad.”

Regis peers around the family room and frowns. “My house is too big, and your house is too small.”

“No, it works just fine for us. For now.” Noctis will never get rid of his RV—not even if he settles down somewhere with Ignis and Victor in the future. It’ll make a good vacation vehicle, and he can’t part with the memories of raising his son there. Even if it isn’t always his home, it should stay in their family for as long as it continues to hold together. As a rather recent model, that should mean a few decades, as long as it is properly taken care of.

“You didn’t bring it with you.”

“Yeah, didn’t want to haul it around the city. We borrowed a clunker from Cid.”

Regis frowns. “You mean that death trap.”

“Cindy assured me it works perfectly. We didn’t need anything fancy. I’m sure your neighbors hate seeing it parked in the drive. Next time, I’ll bring the entire RV and see how they feel about that.”

“I don’t care what they think, and they can keep any complaints to themselves. I’ll be happy you’re visiting me, as long as you and my grandson are safe.”

Noctis has considered a few times buying a car, but what would he do with it? He can only drive one vehicle at a time.

“Doesn’t Ignis have a car?” asks Regis.

“Oh, he only has a motorcycle. Would you have rather we hitched a ride on that?” Noctis grins, which visibly irritates his father.

“I still can’t imagine him driving one.”

It’s at the tip of Noctis’ tongue to say Ignis looks rather hot straddling all that chrome, but he refrains. 

“He sold his car when he left Insomnia. I don’t know if he had the motorcycle before quitting his job, or if he bought it after. I can tell he’s good at driving it, and it takes a separate license. I doubt he learned to ride one in such a short time.” 

“Ignis is full of surprises—and skills. He cooks, cleans, organizes…” Regis ticks each thing on a finger. “He’s intelligent and quick-thinking.”

“Attractive, kind, good with kids.”

“I’d be happy to have him as a son-in-law.” 

“Well, it’s a little early in the relationship to be planning a wedding, not that Victor thought about that when he decided Ignis would be his second daddy.”

Regis’ laugh echoes easily in the large family room. 

“We’ll let you know when there’s an engagement, Dad. You’ll be the first I invite to the wedding.” 

What Noctis thinks, but doesn’t say: _I won’t leave you out this time._

~*~

There are many hugs and even a few tears when Noctis, Victor, and Ignis leave Insomnia the next morning. Noctis embraces his father for a whole minute and tries not to cry. If only a younger version of him had known how much it would hurt, to say the words he did to a father whose only fault was financial security for their family. The thought that Victor might feel similarly about Noctis someday doesn’t help his guilt, either. It isn’t easy being a child, but it isn’t easy being an adult, either, and now Noctis has experienced both sides.

“Don’t be a stranger, or I’ll drag you back to Insomnia personally,” threatens Clarus with a smile as he pulls Noctis into a hug next and pats his back a little too hard. 

Noctis grimaces. “Noted.”

Ignis is given hugs, as well, furthering his acceptance into the family. Regis and Clarus stand on the porch to wave them off as they drive away. 

Noctis misses them already by the time Ignis reaches the end of the block, but he’s looking forward to returning to his home on wheels, too. If he’s lucky, he’ll even get some alone time with Ignis in the evening, and he’s eager for that most of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to finish this story as part of my Camp NaNo for this month, so maybe this story will be finished and posted by the end of the summer...? ~~It's still nothing but tooth-rotting domestic fluff, though, seeing what I wrote for other chapters.~~
> 
> I already have the ending started, but... Well, I have to go back and finish some chapters, too. :'D
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

It’s early in the afternoon when Ignis pulls into Hammerhead. Outside the car, it is already hot—especially by Ignis’ standards. Heat comes in waves off the pavement. Ignis parks the vehicle as close to Cid’s garage as he can manage before he kills the engine and the air conditioning.

Before any of them exit the car, Noctis presses a bag of coins into Ignis’ hands. 

“Cid’s gonna ask for some favors, so I might be busy for a while,” says Noctis. “I think it’d be good for you to spend the afternoon with Vicky, too. Hopefully that’s enough gil.”

“I get to hang out with Ignis?” Victor cheers in the backseat. As soon as he catches sight of Cid making his way around the side of the garage, he lets out another excited holler and dives out of the car to greet him.

“I want another date tonight, after he goes to bed,” says Noctis in a low voice.

Ignis hums, liking the sound of that. “Recreating our first one?” 

“You caught me.” Noctis pushes open the door but doesn’t leave the car. “Listen, if you’ve got anything you need from me, I’ll be around—or you can call. Cid and Cindy will help, too, if Cid sends me off on some errand. I just thought you might like a day with Victor.”

“What are the coins for?” Ignis lifts the bag by its drawstring and swings it lightly.

Noctis points over to the general store. “See those machines? Victor loves them, but he’s only allowed two pieces of candy. The rest of the coins have to go for games or trinkets. After I talk to Cid, I’ll hook the RV up in its place and get the AC going. That way you have a bathroom and someplace cool to go if you need out of the sun.”

“Thank you.” 

“If you’re overwhelmed, Cid won’t mind taking care of Victor,” offers Noctis, when Ignis doesn’t answer him.

“Oh, Noct—it’s fine. I don’t mind at all.” Ignis has adapted more and more to the role of parenthood, even if he isn’t officially part of their family yet. His adventures in the city with Clarus and Victor yesterday have banished nearly all his doubts about looking after the child without Noctis around. 

Ignis follows Noctis into the garage, which is hotter than outside. The metal building is nothing more than an oven under the sun. As soon as he spots them, Cid calls Noctis over, clearly busy with a stack of boxes and a clipboard. Victor is sitting in one of the chairs, swinging his legs. 

“See you later,” says Noctis, giving Ignis a quick kiss on the cheek and taking the keys to Cid’s car out of his hand.

“Later, Noct.” Ignis turns to Victor and holds up the bag of coins. It must be the same pouch that’s always used for the machines, because the little boy’s face lights up. “I think we’ve got an important day ahead of us, don’t we, Victor?”

Victor nods several times quickly, leaping off his chair. If only Ignis had a fraction of that energy in this heat—it’s almost as if Victor isn’t fazed by the temperature Stepping outside offers them fresher air but direct sunlight. Fortunately, it isn’t a far walk to the general store. The awning over the gas pumps offers a block from the light, and the air is cool inside the shop. Even standing by the windows, where all the machines are lined up, is tolerable. 

“They have new ones!” cheers Victor, peering in at each of the machine’s displays of toys, fake tattoos, stickers, candies, and other trinkets. There are two arcade machines and one of those rocking airships that moves for no more than a couple of minutes before demanding more toll, but Victor doesn’t give them more than a passing glance. 

“Look, Ignis, cats!” Victor presses a finger to the glass. On the other side are several cat erasers in different colors and poses. “Can I please have a coin, Ignis?”

“One at a time?”

Victor nods. “That’s how Daddy does it. We open them up one at a time. Daddy always gets a soda while he watches.”

Ignis _is_ feeling a bit thirsty. A can of Ebony sounds nice. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Yeah, thank you!” 

“What would you like to drink? I’ll fetch something while you draw the first capsule.” Ignis holds out a coin and drops it into Victor’s waiting palm.

“Orange juice, please!”

Victor hops back over to the machines. After Ignis has pulled out two cold drinks and sets them on the countertop next to the register, he hears the turn of the lever and the drop of a capsule into the slot beneath the machine. He glances over his shoulder as soon as he finishes swiping his card and typing in his pin in time to see Victor grab at his prize. 

Once Ignis returns with the drinks, Victor settles onto the bench beside him.

“What did you get?” asks Ignis, popping open his Ebony. The cool coffee is smooth and refreshing. It’s his first of the day—the gas station they stopped at for lunch was sold out. 

“I’ll open it now,” says Victor, fingers cradled around the top of the capsule. With a pop, it opens, revealing an eraser in the shape of a ginger tabby stretching. “Oooh, I like this one!” He lifts it up to admire it before holding it up to Ignis’ eye level. 

“It’s very pretty.”

“Yeah, I’ll keep it.” Victor sets it back into the capsule and returns the lid. “Do you have my bag?”

The tote remains in the car, along with the rest of their luggage. Ignis is not usually in the habit of forgetting such things, but Noctis’ request for a date and the whole bag of coins exchange completely threw Ignis off his rhythm. Luckily, it seems they weren’t the only ones to realize their mistake. Noctis—with saintly timing—crosses in front of the general store, towing all their luggage with him. As soon as he reaches the door, Noctis pokes his head in.

“Cid told us to get our shi—stuff. Out of the car.” Noctis makes a face at nearly slipping in his language before lifting the bag off his shoulder and wiggling the strap at Victor. The little boy hurries over and lets Noctis drop it into his waiting arms.

“Thanks, Daddy! We really needed it!”

“Yeah, what else would you do with all those prizes?” says Noctis deviously. “Put them back?”

“No way!”

“Aren’t you glad I saved you?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Daddy!” Victor hurries back over to Ignis, setting the tote beside his orange juice.

“I’ll put our luggage in my RV for now,” says Noctis, waving goodbye to both of them.

“Thank you, Noctis.” Ignis waves back before turning to Victor. “Your father has perfect timing.”

“That’s ‘cos he’s Daddy. He knows when I need him.”

Ignis thinks it might have more to do with Hammerhead being a small hub out in the middle of nowhere, and Noctis knowing where they would be in order to make a quick delivery. Not that he’ll say any of that to Victor.

“He’s intuitive.”

“In-too-it-tive? What’s that mean?”

“It means he had a good feeling about what you needed.”

“Ah, that’s Daddy!”

That’s likely every attentive parent, as Ignis is beginning to develop an understanding of Victor’s needs the more time they spend together. 

“Can I have another coin, please?”

Ignis holds out another one, and it isn’t long before he understands why Noctis has drawn out this process by doing one capsule at a time. If Victor were given a whole bag and left to consume it with no restriction, there would be no monitoring what he receives, and the whole process wouldn’t eat up nearly as much time. It keeps Victor occupied, going back and forth between the bench and the machines, too, forcing him to do a little more legwork. 

It takes a while before Victor looks worn out. His eyes often drift to the snacks in the store, especially the hot dogs and pizzas being warmed near the fountain drinks.

“Hungry?” asks Ignis.

Victor hesitates. “Can you fix me a hot dog?” He points from the display of warming meals to a fridge unit nearby that holds packages of hot dogs. “That’s cheaper.” 

“Yes, yes it is.” 

“Is there money left?” Victor points to the bag of coins. They’ve only managed to dip into a fraction of it. 

“I have money. Let’s get something to eat.” With the freezer and fridge unplugged and not running the past two weeks, Noctis cleared everything out before their trip to Insomnia. There might still be dry goods, but an unopened box of cereal does little good when they’re out of milk, and there’s no guarantee Ignis will find something edible in one of the cabinets. 

“Thanks, Ignis!” Victor grabs his tote and scoops up Ignis’ hand. “You have a key to our RV?”

“Your father gave me a spare.” The new addition sits on his keyring and has since Galdin, but Ignis hasn’t had a reason to use it until now. In Galdin, they spent a lot of time in and around the restaurant, with no shortage of bathrooms and eateries. 

Victor might know that making hot dogs from a package is cheaper than buying a meal that’s already hot, but it’s clear he’s parroting information from his father. While shopping, Victor doesn’t quite understand the concept of money, only that it’s necessary. Items on their own are judged by how high their number is on whether they’re “cheap” or “expensive”. Hot dogs and buns are fine, but when Ignis selects ingredients for chili, Victor expresses shock at some of the prices.

“You’re buying a lot,” says Victor, staring at their filling basket. “Do you really have enough money?”

“I do.” 

If that isn’t enough of a shock to Victor, Ignis cooks their hotdogs on the stove rather than in the microwave once they’re back in the RV.

“Daddy never does that. He ‘zaps’ them.”

“I think your Daddy is a bit tired sometimes, and this takes longer than the microwave.”

“Or he’s lazy.”

When it comes to Noctis and cooking, that might be a bit true, but Ignis is sure that stems from exhaustion. “Let’s not say things like that. He has so many things to do. Work, taking care of his family, laundry, dishes…”

“Yeah. But now you can help!” Victor tilts his head. “Do you have a job, Ignis?”

“Oh, not at the moment. I’ve recently left a fancy job to find something I enjoy more.”

“Are you gonna do a buncha jobs like Daddy?”

“I just might.” Ignis refuses to be idle; cooking and cleaning gives him some way to pass the time, and he enjoys childcare, but he’ll need an income. The savings he accumulated over the years will be drained quickly if he doesn’t pick up work somewhere. Even a tight budget will only allow him to survive some few years, and it will mean nothing left for retirement or emergencies. “What do you think I would be good at?” 

“You could be a chef.”

Ignis enjoys serving meals to his loved ones, but not so much the process of making them for strangers. He’ll do it short-term, as he did in Galdin, but for something more stable in the future, he would prefer not to monetize what he typically loves doing. Turning hobbies into work often backfires. 

“I’d like to save all my cooking for you.” Ignis tweaks Victor on the nose with the tip of his finger, making the child giggle. With one last flip to check the hot dog, he slips it into a bun waiting on a plate. Setting aside his tongs, he reaches for the small things of ketchup and mustard he bought. “Here you are.”

“Thanks, Ignis!”

“You’re welcome.”

Once Ignis has his own hot dog prepared and has shut off the stove, he joins Victor at the table, sliding into the booth across from him.

“I really like your hot dogs. They’re better than Daddy’s! His always explode.” 

Ignis nearly chokes on his bite while laughing and quickly covers his mouth with a paper towel. “Oh my. Are you sure about that? They’re the same hot dogs.”

“Yeah! I like this better. Daddy can’t cook so good, can he? We won’t tell him, though.”

Ignis is pretty sure Noctis already knows he’s mediocre in a kitchen, but he nods in agreement. If it weren’t for the child nearby, he’d state the truth rather bluntly to Noctis because he knows his partner can take it, but he doesn’t want Victor to pick up on the habit without knowing that context is everything when it comes to teasing. Otherwise, such statements are simply rude.

Victor sweeps his gaze over their surroundings. “We need a bigger RV.”

“This is the biggest size allowed on the road. Why do you think we need a bigger RV?”

“So you can live with us.”

“I’ll fit. I don’t have many possessions right now.” 

Victor puffs out his cheeks. “Will I hafta sleep in my own bed soon?”

Ignis has no desire to eject Victor from sleeping in the main bed. “There’s room enough for three of us. Do you not like your bed?”

“Too far from Daddy…” Victor turns around, peering at the double bunks toward the back of the RV. “It’s scary at night by myself. Even in Daddy’s bed.”

“What makes it scary?”

“Noises! I hear animals.”

“There are lots of coyotes and owls that are nocturnal—that means they’re active at night.”

“Noct-turnal? Noct. Turnal.” Victor’s eyes widen. “Noct is short for Noctis! That’s Daddy’s name.”

Ignis laughs. “Yes, yes it is. It means night.”

“I gotta tell Daddy!”

“When he gets back,” Ignis reassures the boy. “You should finish eating. You’ve got ketchup down your arm.” He reaches across the table with his paper towel and wipes off the child’s arm until it’s less obviously dirty. They’ll have to wash up properly after their meal. 

“Thanks, Ignis.”

Victor beams at him, displaying a gap where he recently lost a tooth, and Ignis laughs. Maybe if his customers were little kids who smiled at him like that, Ignis would gladly open up a restaurant. 

He could always open up a food cart and serve hot dogs around lunchtime, but that’s a thought for another day.

~*~

Ignis and Noctis make a joint effort to read to Victor before bed. Once he’s resting between them, Ignis eases the book out from under the child’s arms and sets it on the bookshelf. 

Hammerhead is dark now, and every place but the convenience store and the diner are closed. The street lamps provide most of their light, as does the battery-powered lantern Noctis brings along with them. In Noctis’ arms are two blankets, and Ignis carries the glasses. 

They reoccupy the same table as their first date, but something is missing.

“We’re forgetting drinks,” says Ignis. 

“I can run and get them.” Noctis settles the blankets onto his seat. “Need one yet?”

“No, it’s still warm.” Too warm for Ignis’ tastes. The heat of Hammerhead clings harder in the summertime, unwilling to release its grip. 

“What do you want to drink?”

“Boxed wine?”

Noctis laughs. “Exactly like the first time. All right, I’ll be back.” 

Ignis doesn’t sit down right away, instead wandering a few feet away to look out at the dark desert. It seems especially foreboding as he stands under the glow of the streetlamps with few things to light the desert. It’s still not late enough for the stars to be at their brightest, and clouds cover most of the sky. Any stargazing they might have planned may very well have to wait for another night.

Noctis returns a few minutes later, carting the boxed wine and a paper sack. He sets them on the table as Ignis returns and takes his seat.

“I was hungry,” admits Noctis, opening the sack and reaching in. “I know you ate with Victor, but my dinner was a grilled cheese. I’m starving.” 

“You should have said something. I would have made us supper. Victor and I had hot dogs as a snack and later made vegetarian chili.”

“And my kid _ate_ that?”

“Gobbled it, even, except the onions. I had a feeling he’d pick them out, so I cut them in large chunks to make it easier for him.”

“Anything leftover?”

“Yes, actually. It’s warming in your crockpot.”

“I have a crockpot?” After a beat, Noctis laughs. “Right. Old wedding present. I forgot it was in the cabinet—meant to pawn it. Good thing I didn’t, right?”

“Is it fair you’re eating from the convenience store? Victor didn’t ask for a fresh hot dog—he pointed out that it was more expensive than making them at home. I suspect you don’t buy him a lot of hot meals to save on money, but now you’re treating yourself.”

Noctis pulls out a bag of chips. “Yeah, that’s why I bought him a brownie as an apology.” He flicks the paper sack. “He can have that tomorrow sometime. I needed something quick. You won’t catch me eating vegetarian chili.” 

It took Ignis and Victor a lot of work to make said chili, but Ignis isn’t hurt that Noctis won’t even try it. The flavor seemed to convince Victor—who also had his doubts—and the leftovers were not intended for anyone particular so much as the two couldn’t finish the batch on their own.

“Nice place to have a date,” admits Noctis, staring up at the sky. “Too bad about tonight’s weather, but at least it isn’t raining.”

“We’re spending it together, in the same spot.” Ignis chuckles. “Same brand of wine, even.”

“Yup.” A chip disappears into Noctis’ mouth. 

“Remember how terrified you were to talk to me? And I found you outside, admiring my bike?”

“Hey, I didn’t know it was yours. If I had, that wouldn’t have changed anything, but I didn’t know…”

Ignis smiles. “I was grateful to have an excuse to talk to you.”

“I saw you checking me out. In the silver napkin holders.”

“And you were staring right back.” 

“Was I?” Noctis laughs. “That obvious?”

“Terribly.”

Noctis doesn’t seem much different than he did back then. His hair has gotten a little longer—enough that he ties a good portion of it at the back of his neck—and he’s smiling almost all the time even when there’s nothing in particular to smile at. Ignis likes to notice the little details like that. 

“I didn’t think you’d like me, with that bedhead and tired dad look I had going on, wearing a shirt two days in a row.”

“You didn’t smell, and your hair wasn’t that bad. You’re very attractive, too.” It would take effort—and perhaps a great deal of badly trimmed facial hair—for Noctis to be ugly. He has nice eyes, a great smile, and surprisingly cute ears that stand out when he tucks hair behind them.

Ignis studies Noctis in the bad lighting, appreciating all the details he can make out. 

“I was teased for being unattractive when I was younger,” admits Ignis. 

“With _those_ gorgeous lips?” 

“I had terrible acne in my teens and early twenties, and I dressed far too old for my age for a while.” And people can be cruel. “It matters who is looking. And I like looking at you.”

Noctis goes pink to his ears, lowering his face toward the ground—a sight Ignis enjoys all too much. “You can’t just say stuff like that.” 

“Can’t I?” Ignis moves his chair until they’re side-by-side. One hand reaches for Noctis, tracing his jawline, thumb gently raking over his bottom lip. Whatever Noctis doesn’t see, Ignis does. Yes, the eyes beneath those beautiful lashes are tired, but they gaze with such love and compassion that Ignis can’t help but adore Noctis even more. And that plump lip invites Ignis in for a kiss.

“I love you,” admits Noctis when they pull away, and he fusses with a blanket to cover them both, even though it hasn’t cooled enough to need it. 

It comes as a bit of a surprise that Noctis says it first this time—he’s usually quite shy about it, and better at showing his feelings rather than expressing them in words. 

Ignis reaches for Noctis’ hand and squeezes it lightly. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The draft of this story is finished, so now I'm just editing chapters and posting them. Might try to get the rest up within the next day or two. I'd do it all in one go, but I'm starting to fall asleep at my computer, so I only succeeded in editing this one chapter. :')
> 
> I have very little memory of what it's like to eat hot dogs with stovetop versus microwave, because I've always hated eating them, but I remember when I was a kid and forced to choke them down, plus what I've seen of people making them... Well, they'd split open in the microwave (which is what Victor means when he says "explode" haha)


	13. Chapter 13

Working for Exineris in Lestallum’s heat is brutal, and Noctis returns to the RV with cartons of take-out for his waiting family. Ignis sent him a text asking if he would pick up carry-out on his way home, with a promise that they would split the cost. Noctis couldn’t refuse. It sounds better than anything they have at home.

As soon as he’s in the door, he lets out a sigh of relief and stands under the air conditioning for a solid minute.

“Daddy!” Victor pokes his nose into one of the plastic bags still held in Noctis’ hand. “What did you get?”

“Fried rice, noodles, wontons…” Nearly everything on the menu, especially if it had meat. Victor has been a bit more open to vegetables under Ignis’ influence, too, and Noctis bought a few dishes for him to try.

Ignis is busy folding laundry at the table, but he quickly clears it away to make room for all the cartons of food. 

“Welcome back,” says Ignis. “I’m nearly done.”

The entire RV has been tidied. Not a toy, book, or dish is out of place. All that’s left is to finish folding the laundry. This is an alien concept for Noctis, who tosses most of their clean clothes into a basket and digs out what he needs. 

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for cleaning.” 

“I cleaned, too!” Victor points to his toys, all tucked away neatly. “Iggy helped me.”

“Iggy?” Noctis eyes Ignis.

“He heard you call me that, and it stuck. Now he won’t use anything else.”

“Parrot,” teases Noctis, reaching over and ruffling his son’s hair. “Let’s wash up for dinner.” 

“I’m not dirty. I cleaned all day!” Victor holds up hands that are visibly filthy, and when he notices, he scrunches up his nose. “I’m not that bad.”

“You are, and so am I.” Noctis wants a shower in cold water, but the best time for that is after the kiddo is in bed. “C’mon, we can wash up together.”

They sit at the kitchen sink and scrub their hands at the same time, Victor using his little stepping stool. Noctis lathers up his hands and gently pulls them apart, blowing into the bubble that forms.

“I can do that, too!” Victor copies his father, which was Noctis’ intention from the beginning. By giving his son a perk to washing his hands, Victor has been slowly viewing it more favorably. Even if it does mean playing around.

“Gotta scrub them good and get that lather going, buddy.” It’s a total con, but Noctis doesn’t feel any shame when it’s so damn effective. 

When Victor succeeds in blowing a bubble out of his hands, it barely floats toward the sink before it pops. 

“Aw.”

“That was pretty good. What a big bubble.” Noctis turns the water back on. “Time to rinse off and eat.”

Even if Victor was having fun before, his appetite wins over. He rinses quickly, barely dries his hands on the towel, and rushes off to sit next to Ignis. All the cartons are open and spread out on the table. Noctis brings out plates and utensils over for them.

“Hey, Daddy? What’d you do today?”

“Exineris work for Holly.” It’s all boring, and not worth talking about, but Noctis tries to think of something to humor his son. There’s one notable moment, however, and Noctis pulls out his phone to show off the photographic evidence of his encounter. “I saw a lot of rabbits today.”

“Woah!” Victor leans in to get a better look at the screen. “That’s cool, Daddy! I didn’t see any rabbits today, but I saw a beetle.”

“Where did you see one?” Please let it not be in the damn RV. It might be gone now, but if there’s one, there might be a way for others to enter, too.

“On a tree! It was big. Iggy was gonna get a picture, but it flew away.”

“That’s too bad.” Noctis isn’t entirely insincere. It might not hurt him to miss out on seeing the bug, but it would’ve been a great addition to Victor’s book. “Maybe we can sketch it. Do you know what kind it was?”

Victor glances at Ignis. “I can’t remember.”

“A jewel beetle,” says Ignis. “We looked it up.”

Ah, those are even kind of pretty. If only they didn’t have legs. Six of them. And wings in which to fly around and land on people _and crawl across their skin with six fucking legs._

Noctis forces a smile. “Wow, that’s pretty cool.”

“You’ll draw it?”

“Yup.” With all six fucking legs. Ah, the sacrifices parents make for their kids.

“Will you be okay?” 

“Yeah. Don’t worry, Vicky, I want to do it for your book.” Noctis will do a lot of things he doesn’t necessarily enjoy if it means Victor’s book is kept up to date. It’s special. Even if Victor gets older and doesn’t see the point in it anymore, it’ll be a keepsake for Noctis. Call him sentimental, but it’s as vital as any baby book. Only it documents his baby for several years of his precious life and how much he has grown and learned over that span of time.

“You’re the best, Daddy!”

Lines like that make it worth a bit of self-sacrifice. 

 

~*~

The observation deck at Lestallum is a bit crowded, but there is space enough to get near the ledge and overlook a good portion of Cleigne. The thick trees make it hard to see the road on the other side of Taelpar Crag, but Victor makes a game of rattling off predicted destinations for any cars he still manages to spot. Noctis wears a cap to keep the sun out of his eyes and listens attentively to his son, offering bits of local information from pamphlets. 

Ignis didn’t join them. Instead, he’s looking for part-time work while they’re in Lestallum. He insisted Noctis shouldn’t be the only one working.

That’s all right, since Noctis wouldn’t mind a little bonding time between him and his son. The observation deck is as good a place as any. The morning weather is much easier to handle the heat, too. It’s still hot, but Victor never seems to suffer as much as Noctis when it comes to extreme temperatures. 

They’re meeting up with Victor’s friends and their parents tomorrow. Victor spent all night putting souvenirs and candy into gift bags and labelling them each carefully. The time until he can see his friends crawls painfully for the impatient child. A whole day of waiting is agonizing when you’re only five. 

There’s a playground nearby that Noctis wants to take Victor to when they’re done at the observation deck, and his plan for a day out seems to be just the distraction Victor needs. 

“Daddy?” asks Victor, fingers curled around the concrete ledge of the observation deck as he leans back as far as his arm length will allow. 

“What’s up?”

“When are you going to marry Iggy?”

Noctis lets out a strangled noise through his throat—something between a laugh and a jumble of incoherent words that might translate to something similar to: _Why do you ask these things?_

“Um, we haven’t discussed it yet. You know I’ve only known Iggy a short time.”

“Do you want to marry him?”

“Definitely.” Noctis hasn’t thought much about said wedding, but he wants it to happen. “Do you want me to?”

“Yeah! I can be your ring holder.”

“Ring bearer?”

“Yeah, that. And you can have a giant cake!” Victor rights himself in order to balance his next move, which is to sweep his arms up into the air and gesture the size of a cake. 

“One larger than you?”

Victor nods enthusiastically. 

“Hmm. Are you sure you want us to have a wedding, or do you just want cake?”

“Both?”

Noctis snorts. Not to say he wouldn’t like a cake and a themed wedding for his father’s sake, and a little bit for his son, too. It’ll make a good memory for Victor. When Noctis eloped with Ana, the whole thing was a small affair. They purchased a fancy cupcake at a bakery and split it once they returned to their hotel room, and dinner that night was an expensive restaurant. The whole thing cost no more than two days’ wages between the pair. 

Noctis doesn’t regret how it happened. His journey with Ana had enough romance to not worry about an elaborate wedding and honeymoon. If not for his family, an event of the same size would be satisfactory enough. 

It’ll cost a bit more, but Noctis and Ignis are sure to work out a budget when the time comes.

“What will you call Ignis, if he adopts you?” asks Noctis.

“Adopts me?” Victor’s eyes go wide as he peers up at his father. “He can do that?”

“Yeah, if you want him to.”

“I do!”

Noctis smooths down his son’s riled hair. “We have a lot of things to tell Iggy, don’t we? You have a ton of friends to tell him about before tomorrow. He’s going with us to meet them.” It makes sense that if Ignis is going to be in their lives, he should become acquainted with the kids and their parents, as well as the program they all use for schooling. “He’s already helping with your homework.”

“Yeah, he’s smart! Just like you, Daddy.”

It feels good for Noctis to hear such a compliment. A lot of people whispered around Insomnia that he must not have been intelligent enough to deal with his family’s business. No one in the company got to know him long enough to recognize his skills. Noctis may have been able to do the job in theory, but in practice, the stress got to him. Even if he’s a chameleon of sorts now, hopping from one job to the next, it at least is satisfying. And it takes its own sort of brilliance, too. Switching from one role to the next means he’s clever in many departments. 

Sure, some of the work is simple, but none of it is ever easy.

“I’m still learning things, too,” admits Noctis. “You’ll always make new discoveries and pick up new skills.”

Victor crinkles up his nose. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

“It can be. Some of it is a lot of fun, though. Like learning how to fish.”

“No thanks.” Well. So much for turning this kid into a fisherman. Maybe Noctis will be lucky with the next one. He kind of hopes Ignis will go for another kid. They’re a lot of work, but Noctis is fond of parenthood. 

And Victor would probably make an amazing brother at times. The kid is ultimately sweet, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s a million times more social than Noctis. With an age gap, maybe they won’t fight as much as Noctis did with Gladiolus, either. Noctis can only hope, of course, because he actually has no idea if Victor might show a surprising jealousy streak or decide that a sibling is an annoyance. 

The whole idea that it might go wrong is enough to make Noctis’ stomach clench. He’s no good at thinking of the future. It’s always much easier to act in the moment. The future’s uncertainties were exactly the reason why he hated having to make business decisions, too.

Noctis would love to hear Victor’s opinions on siblings, but he’s afraid to ask. Either he’ll get Victor’s hopes up, or he’ll find out his son is firmly against the idea. According to Ignis, there has already been some complaint about the crowded RV. It seems only a short time might be left of their road life before Noctis will be forced to settle down. They’ll have to think carefully about what to do in the future. He needs a job that will keep him occupied but not demand his every minute. The last thing Noctis wants is to abandon his child—or children—for a heavy workload. Money is a terrible necessity, but Noctis doesn’t need a huge house in a nice neighborhood, and if there’s a park, he doesn’t need a big yard, either. 

A cat might be nice, though. He’s sure to make Victor’s day if they ever get a cat.

“Vicky, do you like living in an RV?” asks Noctis carefully, taking his son’s hand and guiding him over to a bench. 

Victor nods. “We get to go everywhere!”

“Does it ever make you upset? For any reason? And don’t worry, I want to know what you think. I want you to make sure you’re happy, buddy.”

Noctis has taken great effort never to give his son a reason to be scared of him. There are times that Victor could be frustrating as a toddler, but patience has always been key. Noctis worries at times he might be a complete pushover, but he’d like to think his child is normally behaved for any five-year-old. Communication has been imperative from the start. If he listens and doesn’t get angry, Victor might feel safe opening up to him.

Victor shrugs. “I miss my friends, but they live everywhere. If we had a house, I’d have to wait longer to see them.”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“And it’s small. Can I give away some of my toys?”

That comes as a bit of a surprise statement. It has been a while since they’ve gone through and figured out what Victor will donate, between his clothing and toys. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t play with them anymore.”

“None of the stuffed animals?” asks Noctis in alarm.

“Never!” 

Noctis snags his son around the middle and hauls him into his lap so that he can hug him tightly. “Just checking. You had me worried. Make sure you only give away the toys you’re sure about. We’ll find space for everything else. We should go through your clothes, too, and buy you some new ones.” 

Far too many of Victor’s clothes are looking a bit tight on him, and many are stained as well. Knees and hems in jeans are starting to fray, too. They’ll have to see what needs recycled or donated. 

It’s scary how fast the kid grows. It won’t be long before Victor doesn’t let Noctis hold him at all. There are already times Victor makes it clear he’s far too independent for such affection. 

Noctis wishes the future would stop occupying his mind. He holds his son a little tighter and tries to enjoy what’s in front of him now: beautifully scenery along the observation lot and a wonderful son in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think far too often about what kind of parents Noctis and Ignis would be, and how they'd both make great dads for different reasons. They'd definitely use their strengths and experiences as bases for the kind of fathers they'd become. Ignis would be more diplomatic, Noctis more playful. 
> 
> The next (and final) chapter should be coming right up, time allowing. :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Time skip warning, and there's an "epilogue" at the end of this chapter, since I didn't want to put it in a separate one. :)

Ignis stands a mirror, adjusting the sleeves of his dress shirt, when the door opens and Victor lets himself into the room. The seven-year-old makes a big fuss about his own suit. Despite it being tailored to fit, Victor still treats it the way a cat might regard a new collar. 

“Iggy,” whines Victor, plopping into a chair behind Ignis. 

Ignis studies him in the mirror before turning to face him. “Is something the matter, Victor?”

The boy lifts his legs onto the ottoman and restlessly claps the toes of his shoes together, swinging feet from side to side. 

“I can’t call you ‘Iggy’ anymore.” The nickname has stuck on the little boy’s tongue since Lestallum, but over a year has passed since then. That year has changed so much in all of their lives, in good ways.

“You can call me whatever you like,” says Ignis gently, taking the chair beside Victor’s. 

“You’re my other daddy now, but I can’t call you ‘Daddy’, too. It’d be confusing. And I call him ‘Dad’ sometimes, too, so that doesn’t work either…”

Ignis chuckles and feels his heart swell. “I won’t be upset if you call me ‘Iggy’, but I’d be delighted if you referred to me as one of your fathers. There are many alternative titles you can use.”

“I know.” Victor toys with his bangs, which look like they were painstakingly combed back and gelled by Noctis only a short while ago. It won’t take long for him to mess up the careful styling. “It’s gotta be the right name!”

“It’s a very important decision.” One that—no matter the result—is likely to make Ignis a very happy man. 

“Uh-huh. That’s why you’re still ‘Iggy’ until I come up with something better. But…” The boy lets out a sigh and continues to fuss with his hair. 

“I can give you a list sometime after the ceremony,” says Ignis. “Maybe it’ll give you an idea.”

This brightens up Victor’s face considerably, and he straightens in his seat. “Okay!”

“Are you excited about today?”

Victor nods enthusiastically and slips off the chair. He regards his hair and suit in the mirror before frowning.

“Daddy said not to run around, but I promise I didn’t,” insists Victor, pressing two palms on his hair in an attempt to flatten it against his skull. This only further results in making it appear far different from how it looked when he first entered the room.

“I’ll fix you up,” says Ignis. He fetches his comb and begins to style the boy’s hair. They spend most of the time before the ceremony in front of the mirror, fussing over little details until both of them look immaculate.

But if Ignis is honest, he’d marry Noctis in casual clothing at the courthouse. A big wedding is nice, but all this effort is for Regis’ sake, and maybe in part for Victor’s, too. They’ve chosen Altissia, because Noctis has admitted that if there’s even the slimmest chance Ana’s spirit is anywhere, it’s here, and he wants her to be able to attend. 

Victor seems the least adapted to nice clothes. His suit already looks rumpled after less than an hour in it. Ignis doesn’t blame him; it’s hard to keep still before a wedding.

Once Ignis has them both presentable again, they walk out of the dressing room. Luna waits for them in the hallway. She’s a childhood friend of Noctis’ that lives in Tenebrae—and she’s also Victor’s godmother—who will be performing their wedding ceremony. 

“Victor, you look handsome,” she declares, kneeling down to be more at the child’s eye level.

“He’s not comfortable in these clothes,” says Ignis, placing a supportive hand against Victor’s back. “Once the ceremony is over, I’ll see if Noctis will let him change.” 

Luna grins. “Crowe will be jealous, Victor. She doesn’t like dressing up, and our son wanted to wear his pajamas today.” The couple have three children: two boys and a girl, all older than Victor. “I found his tie stuffed in one of the bouquet vases earlier.” 

Ignis stifles a laugh. “I’m sure he’ll be all right without a tie.” None of the wedding party are wearing one. Victor’s suit came with a bowtie, but he was adamant about not wearing it, and since neither of the grooms would be, they opted to let him go without. 

“I had him toss it in my purse for now,” admits Luna, snapping it open to expose the contents to Ignis. Among the tie are several other items that clearly don’t belong to her. She laughs when she notices Ignis’ amused expression. “Crowe and the kids always leave their things with me, since I’m the only one with a purse.”

“How do you fit it all?” Ignis chuckles and glances at his watch. “Do you know if Noct is ready?”

“He’s fussing with his hair, but yes.”

For all the times Noctis has woken up and run a quick comb through his hair and called it a day, he worries over his hairstyle more than anyone else for special occasions. By his own confession, Noctis spent a great deal of time on his fashion and appearance in his teens. Some of that residual habit has survived through fatherhood. Ignis can’t say he’s any better. It is their wedding, after all. 

“Should I tell Daddy to hurry?” asks Victor.

“No, let him finish getting ready. Do you remember what we rehearsed yesterday? I don’t mind going over it again quickly if you’re nervous.”

Victor rocks on his feet, looking ready to go. “I’ve got it down.”

“You did very well yesterday,” Luna chimes in. “Crowe has the rings and is waiting for you in the lobby. Why don’t you meet up with her?”

“Okay!” Victor zooms off, presumably excited to see one of his new favorite people. Over the past two days, since Luna’s family arrived in Altissia, he has enjoyed spending time with all five of them. 

“As for you.” Luna turns to Ignis, her voice mock-stern. She takes him by the elbow and guides him down the hallway. “It’s going to begin soon. Are you ready?”

“More nervous than I care to admit.” 

Luna pats his hand. “It’ll be our secret. Noctis is a bigger mess, so I left him with Gladio to straighten him out.”

Luna leads Ignis into the lobby of the event hall. The plan is for the two grooms to walk down the aisle with their arms linked together. Other weddings might be fancier, but they’ve aimed for something simple but elegant. The event hall has been decorated with a few flowers and ribbons, but otherwise they’ve chosen to put most of the effort and money into the reception. Food and music are far more important than decorations. 

Nearby, Crow is handing over the box with their rings to Victor. Each ring is set on a little pillow, hand-sewn by Clarus. The box is to help Victor out, since he expressed worry over accidentally dropping and losing the precious rings. Nearby, Prompto is tinkering with his camera. All the guests have arrived and are seated in the main event hall.

Noctis is nowhere in sight. 

“I guess Gladio’s still working on him,” says Luna, letting out a nervous chuckle. “I’ve got to set up. The music should start in ten minutes.”

Victor finally sidles up to Ignis, box in hand, while Crowe herds the youngest Altius-Fleuret child into the event hall. 

“Where’s Daddy?”

“He’ll be here soon.” Ignis needs the reassurance as much as Victor, but deep down, he knows it’s unnecessary to worry. Noctis is more than likely a bigger disaster than his fiancée and son combined. 

“I want you to get married, but I hope this doesn’t take long.” Victor pulls a little at his collar. “Do you really think he’ll let me change?”

“Yes.”

“Thank the Six.” Victor sighs. “When I get married, I’m wearing wizard robes.”

Now that’s a thought. Why didn’t Ignis and Noctis choose something more nontraditional? 

“What color?” asks Ignis.

“Blue and gold, obviously.” 

“This wedding of yours is an excuse to have cake and wear robes, isn’t it?”

Victor smirks up at Ignis. “You caught me.”

“You could be a wizard for Halloween, and you could wear the robes around whenever you wanted.”

“But I couldn’t have a huge cake.”

“Maybe a little one for your birthday. I’ll make it.”

“Deal.”

Ignis only realizes at that moment they were having a transaction, and he may have agreed to more than Noctis will approve of—they don’t exactly have a lot of space in the RV these days, and some of Noctis’ more sentimental items are being stored at his father’s house for the time being to save on space. 

Fortunately, the subject is immediately banished when Noctis enters the lobby. He looks quite regal when cleaned up. Ignis wouldn’t object to seeing him in a suit more often. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Noctis whispers as he adjusts his cuffs. “Is everything ready?”

Ignis glances at his watch. “You’re just in time.”

The wedding music starts up, cuing their procession to start entering. Victor lets out a squeak and straightens his back.

Ignis and Noctis exchange looks.

“Ready?” asks Ignis, offering his arm.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

~*~

During the reception, Ignis borrows the pen from the guestbook and begins jotting down ideas for what Victor can call him onto a napkin. There are too few synonyms for “Daddy” out there, and most sound unsuitable for his relationship with Victor. He chooses ones that would be endearing, like Baba and Papa. 

Noctis turns away from a conversation with Luna and notices him writing. 

“What’ve you got there?” asks Noctis.

“Victor came to me before the wedding and asked what he can call me.” Ignis holds up the list. “I’m afraid being called ‘Pop’ would be unnerving, but that would limit his choices.”

Noctis grins widely. “Did you graduate from ‘Iggy’ to ‘Daddy’?”

“Something like that. I believe the wedding has something to do with Victor’s decision. Now that we’re married…” Ignis pauses. He still can’t believe it, but there’s a ring on his finger and celebrations all around as proof that the past few hours were real. “I told him not to worry, but I got excited.”

“I can be ‘Daddy One’, and you can be ‘Daddy Two’—‘Daddy’ for short.”

“For both of us?”

“Why not? Gives me an excuse to see you, if we answer his calls at the same time.”

Ignis can’t help but laugh and kiss his new husband on the cheek. “You’ll see me anyway. I’ll only be a few feet away most of the time. Now be serious.”

“I was serious. We can both be Daddy. I guess this means you can’t be ‘cool’ anymore.” Noctis appears far too smug by this announcement.

“I think he’s old enough to know you can be both,” says Ignis carefully, not wanting to give away that he has a special surprise for Noctis. For one of his wedding presents to Noctis, Ignis selected a mug that says “World’s Coolest Dad”—with Victor’s input, of course. “Noct, I want it to be special. The title he gives me.”

Noctis rubs his back. “I know. I get that. I didn’t have to worry about what he’d call me, ‘cos even if it’s common, ‘Daddy’ works for me. Makes my day when he says it.”

Ignis can’t believe he’ll soon have that same experience. “I should give him this list. Any idea where he’s at?”

Noctis nods his head toward Prompto, who has found a perch on a platform to get a better view of the dance floor for his photography. “Bugging Prompto about his camera. I’m glad Dad’s taking care of Vicky for us tonight, otherwise we’d hear a repeat of everything he’s learned.”

Prompto doesn’t appear to mind what’s clearly a barrage of questions from Victor. They’re too far away to hear what’s being said, but Ignis can only imagine. Every time Victor is exposed to something new, he’s full of questions. Inevitably, he has to share all his new information with his parents.

“Maybe I shouldn’t interrupt them. They appear to be having fun.”

“He’ll have plenty of time to pester Prompto about his camera.”

“And I’ll have plenty of time to give him this list.”

“But that’s way more important. I want to hear what he chooses.” Noctis practically hauls Ignis out of his chair. “Go on.” 

“All right, all right.”

Ignis tries to smooth out the napkin in his hands. It has gotten a bit crumpled in the fuss, but all the titles are still legible. As soon as he nears, Victor perks up—if that were even possible, with as excited as he has been all day—and waves Ignis over.

“Prompto says he doesn’t take most of his pictures on his phone! Can you believe that?” 

Ignis laughs. “It’s for better photo quality.”

“That’s what _he_ says!”

“Hey, Iggy.” Prompto nods. “Need something?”

“Victor. I need to speak with him.” 

“Oh.” There’s a minute of suspicious speculation, where Victor weighs whether or not Ignis brings good or bad news. “Is it bedtime already? I’m not even tired.”

“We already promised you could stay up tonight. No, it’s about this.” Ignis hands over the napkin and watches Victor’s face switch from confusion to delight.

“I don’t know what to choose,” admits Victor. “Baba? Papa? Haha, Pops? Isn’t that what Daddy calls Uncle Clarus sometimes? That’d be confusing.”

“Admittedly not my favorite choice on the list, but this is your decision. Daddy suggested ‘Daddy One’ and ‘Daddy Two’ for us.”

“He’s silly.” Victor traces a finger over each word again, his teeth working the corner of his lips. “I like Papa and Baba.”

“There’s no rush on what you decide.” No matter how giddy Ignis might feel about the choice, he’ll have to have patience. It’s an important turning point in their lives and in their relationship. Even if Victor goes back and says he wants to continue using “Iggy”, that will be special enough for Ignis. “I’ll be fine with whatever you decide.”

“Paw?” offers Prompto.

Ignis lifts an eyebrow at his husband’s best friend, which elicits a nervous laugh from him.

“Or maybe not.”

“Definitely not.”

“That’s too close to what we call Paw-Paw,” says Victor informatively. “Papa, too. Maybe Baba? I’ll think on it.”

“All right. Don’t worry if it sounds similar to Paw-Paw, Victor. It’s still not quite the same. You have all the time you need to think over it.” 

“Thanks, Iggy.” Victor steps closer and wraps his arms around Ignis. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Ignis leans in and kisses his son on the top of the head. Hearing those three words is far more important to him than whatever moniker Victor will choose for him.

~Epilogue~

Cape Caem is a small town with a total of four streets and sixteen houses, but Victor loves it there. Since the retirement of the lighthouse keeper, his fathers bought the old place and its adjoining home. The lighthouse may or may not be haunted; Victor and the other local kids like to tell everyone it is, but in the two years Victor has spent in Cape Caem, he hasn’t encountered a single ghost. The black kitten that Victor found on their property who merged into their family overnight might be more than a cat. Victor suspects she might be a minor deity. He’ll be disappointed if he ever finds out otherwise.

And the closest there are to wails in the house is when Victor’s baby sister, Marta, starts fussing. She has quite a pair of lungs and sometimes needs them if someone doesn’t hear her more polite whimpers in time.

She’s rather quiet now, as she sits on her brother’s lap a few feet from the fence that overlooks the ocean. This view is nice—maybe not “at the top of the lighthouse” nice, but Victor isn’t allowed up there without an escort. It’ll be evening in a few hours, and everyone will watch the sun go down together. Following that, Ignis has promised to let them roast marshmallows for traditional s’mores. 

Behind him, Ignis minds the grill and scolds Noctis over some recent mischief. There was a coordinated attempt on the removal of vegetables from dinner. Victor isn’t in trouble, since everyone knows it wasn’t his idea. Besides, with Ignis’ seasonings or his famous cheese sauce, vegetables are more tolerable these days. Noctis, however, tried to make off with the tray before it hit the grill and dump it down the side of the rocks for the birds and fish. (He only managed to make it a yard before Ignis caught him.)

It doesn’t hurt that Victor has watched Ignis feed Marta a variety of baby homemade baby foods that often have mashed up veggies in them. She gobbles them as long as there aren’t carrots. No one in their house eats carrots except Ignis, who mostly only ever buys them when he wants to make carrot cake. _No one_ turns down a slice of Ignis’ carrot cake. 

Victor has trouble turning down any of Ignis’ dishes. He might roll certain vegetables off his plate for dishes where they’re mixed in, but Ignis always cuts them big enough to make omitting them easy. 

“I wouldn’t actually throw them away,” says Noctis unconvincingly.

“Hmm, yes, the one who hates vegetables most wouldn’t possibly dispose of them.” Ignis notices Victor has turned his head and is watching them with some amusement. “Victor, what do you think? Would he pass up the opportunity to toss them?”

Victor shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Vicky, you’re supposed to be on my side!” 

Victor grins. “I always choose the winning side, and since Papa caught us, that means I’m going to side with him.”

Ignis wags his tongs in Victor’s direction, one eyebrow raised at his husband. “Our son understands.”

Anyone would have to be an idiot not to see the absolute adoration in Victor’s fathers’ eyes as the pair stare down at one another. The disapproving looks soon dissolve into laughter and smiles, and Ignis rewards Noctis with a kiss. After years of being together, they’re no less in love than the day they met. Looking back, Victor has only a vague memory of what happened, and he misremembers some details. What he hasn’t forgotten is the general happiness they’ve experienced along the way.

It feels the same, now, which Victor figures is pretty good. Whenever the family has a problem, they’ve communicated it to one another. The best thing about Victor’s dads is they’re always willing to listen to him. When he admitted he wanted to travel less and spend more time with his friends, they asked him what sort of place he’d enjoy living. Having grown up mostly passing through resorts and hamlets in Lucis and later Accordo, Victor told them he wanted to live someplace similar to that. Not too small that there wouldn’t be other kids around, and someplace close to a school. While Victor has to take a bus to Taelpar Academy—located a few miles away in another town that picks up the population of kids from all over the area and teaches every grade from preschool to high school—it still offers him a chance to see his friends regularly. 

Putting down roots turned out to be unexpectedly hard. The old lighthouse needed fixed up before they could move in, and they still had to live out of their RV for a few months during all the repairs. A lot of friends came to help with their new property, and there were weeks where the RV would get a bit crowded and everyone would bring the tents out. It could be fun, too. There were days like this one, where they’d set up a fire in the shade of the trees, overlooking the ocean, and everyone would eat s’mores and tell stories.

Victor is pretty sure his parents are trying to recreate that feel but without the crowds. It’s working, too. Everything about the scent of mouth-watering meat and wood burning churns up nostalgia. 

Noctis approaches Victor, hands outstretched for Marta. “How’re my favorite kids?”

Victor draws his arms around his sleeping sister and glares at his dad as if he might bite him if he tries to take her. “Just fine, thanks for asking.”

They’re all in something of a custody battle over who gets to hold Marta when she’s in a clean diaper. It’s even worse whenever Regis and Clarus are around, and somehow, Clarus always manages to win. No one else is as steeled as him when it comes to changing diapers or wiping dribble. Clarus has also mastered the art of soothing teething babies. 

“She’s going to wake up soon,” warns Noctis. That means all sorts of potential situations, namely that Marta is going to be wiggly and fussy over her needs. 

She’s already stirring in Victor’s arms. He reluctantly lifts her up and hands her over. 

“I love you, buddy,” says Noctis, swooping down to plant a kiss on Victor’s forehead.

Victor squeaks and starts scrubbing at the spot. Not cool. He’s eleven now! But his father wouldn’t kiss him if Victor didn’t want affection. They’re a close family, and all too often, they end up squeezed on the same sofa together in front of the fire during cold winter evenings. 

“I’m glad you like your sister,” says Noctis, taking another camping chair nearby and settling Marta onto his lap. “I was worried you’d hate having a sibling.”

“She’s all right for now.” As long as she doesn’t mess with Victor’s belongings. He accidentally left one of his beloved stuffed animals outside his room, and she managed to drool all over it. Luckily, Ignis is amazing at cleaning any surface. Banana looks as good as the day Cid broke into the claw machine to fetch him. Since then, Victor’s more careful about leaving out any of his things. He’s fortunate that Banana posed no choking hazard when his sister used him as a teething item, too. 

“You’re stuck with her now,” says Noctis, fondly smoothing back Marta’s hair away from her round face. Just like he used to with Victor—and still would, if Victor didn’t bat his hands away.

“I think I can handle that.” She does have a rather cute face. Her hair is thick and dark brown, and Victor has a feeling she’ll be clever and mischievous later on. “But she’s the last one, right?” 

Victor would be lying if he wasn’t looking forward to the end of diaper days and cries waking them up early in the morning. Another baby means all that starts over again. 

“Yeah, I think we’re good,” says Noctis, shifting Marta in his arms as she begins to wake up. “I’m getting old and tired.”

“You’ve been ol—” The look Noctis sends Victor is sharp enough to sever that word right out of existence. “You’ve always been tired,” amends Victor. “You’re sleepier than Marta.”

By now, they’re well aware that Noctis has chronic fatigue syndrome, which slows him down. It’s probably a good thing their life is quiet here in Cape Caem. Noctis and Ignis have a system to make sure everyone is taken care of and gets the rest they need. 

All in all, it’s a pretty good life, and it isn’t as if they’ve retired the RV. Every summer, they take a trip around Lucis, including a week in Insomnia. By the end of it, they have their annual cookout in front of the lighthouse. A sort of “coming home” ceremony, complete with s’mores and grilled delights. It’s one of Victor’s favorite family traditions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for reading. For all the sweet comments and support. This story was self-indulgent fluff that has been great for preoccupying me during otherwise stressful times. 
> 
> I've had a daughter planned for these two for a long time, but I couldn't settle on a name. Marta ended up working somehow? Surprise! (Hopefully not a bad surprise.)
> 
> I'm not sure if this will be the last of the ignoct kids ever seen, but I think I've had my fill for a little while. :)


End file.
